Into Darkness - SYOT Story
by CandleFire45
Summary: It's dark outside. Something's creeping in the night. The twigs start to snap, and the leaves start to move. No telling what or where it is, it could be anywhere, even right beside you, right before the cannon fires. SYOT Closed (24/24)
1. Chapter 1 - Family Realations

_Ember Ruiz – 17 Years Old_

* * *

My head was pressed against the pillows, sinking deeper into its soft fabric. I could faintly hear something smashing onto our roof. Was it rain? Maybe it was since it was freezing right now. I reached out to grab my blanket, to block out the cold, but I couldn't feel it around me. I couldn't find it at all. I stumbled around, groaning in my head, only to feel soft sheets underneath me. My body kept sinking deeper into my bed, and soon, I felt like I was enveloped in a tomb, unable to awaken until I was a thing of beauty.

Finally, I opened my eyes, the sound outside grew too loud for me the bear. I expected to be in my bed but found myself slumped over on my couch instead. I don't know how I ended up here. Perhaps I came in late from work and just fell right onto the couch when I came back. I couldn't feel anything in my body at the moment, and frankly, I didn't want to move, I was just way too tired. My body felt slack, and the air in the room was cold. Not like it was anything different, but it was still odd to me considering how hot it has been the past few days.

Someone was shaking my arm violently, and I could hear a faint voice of someone telling me to get up. The tugging on arm, and the consistent lack of my brain not knowing what was going on finally made me wake up. I figured it was probably time to get up anyway since I should be helping my brother, Christos with chores instead of lying face first on the couch. The first thing that greeted me when I opened my tired eyes, was the smile on Isabella's tiny face.

"You're awake!" She said excitedly, with a glowing look in her eyes.

When it comes to smiling, it's much easier for me when Isabella's around. Not like I'm never happy, just cold and distant at everyone who isn't family, but even my family is somewhat depressing and cold. It's always Isabella who makes the house shine.

"I sure am Isabelle," I said groggily, sitting up on the couch. I looked around the room, noticing that I was in my room, just not my messy bed. I noticed that it was pouring outside, making it hard to see out the already dirty window.

I yawned and stretched my arms out, "Did I miss much?"

"Not really," Isabelle answered back, "Christos finished all of the housework while you were sleeping though. "

I sighed, rubbing my eyes to improve my vision. Of course, he would do that. He wouldn't bother to wake me up to help him, he's way to selfless to do that.

"Tell him I'll help with dinner later."

Isabelle smiled and sat next to me on the couch, her pink skirt contrasting very much with the dark red leather she was sitting on.

"Will we be having pasta?"

I laughed and kissed her on the forehead, causing her to giggle in her light-hearted way. To be honest, I didn't think we had any pasta left, but for Isabelle, I would do anything for her.

"If I can find some leftover in the cabinet. Can't make any promises though."

Isabelle laughed again, which made me smile. She seemed to laugh at everything, no matter what it was. It seemed that everything was okay, nothing horrible had happened while I was asleep. Today seemed like it was going to be a normal day.

"Isabelle! Ember! I need you guys out here!" I heard Christos call from the living room.

Isabelle instantly flew off the couch and right out my bedroom door, running as fast as she could towards Christos's voice. I on the other hand just groaned and stood up, stretching a bit before I went to my closet to change, didn't want to look like a mess in front of my brother, who always silently judged me whenever I went out looking like a mess.

I was still in my school clothes, which were dirty and wrinkled. I took them off in a hurry and threw them onto my bed, making a mental note that I had to wash them later. It wasn't hard to choose my outfit since I usually just wear the same thing every day, a white tunic with long black pants. After that, it was just a matter of combing my hair very quickly.

"Ember! Are you still sleeping!?" Christos called out again.

"No, I'm up dirt face, and I'm coming!" I yelled right back.

I quickly finished combing my hair, making it look slightly messy, but better then it was a few seconds ago when I walked out of my room in a hurry.

The second I came into the living room, I could tell something was wrong. Everyone was crowded among the broken T.V. Even our father, who usually is way too drunk to even care what the capitol says on the news. No one bothers to watch the T.V since nothing good is ever on. Sometimes cartoons will play, but it's rare, and it's mostly just messages from the capitol, footage of district 13, or replays of the past hunger games, which we never liked to watch.

So, if the electricity is on, that only means one thing.

I slowly walk into the room, where Christos waves me over to sit next to him. I quickly do and wrap my knees around my chest. If they're playing what I think they're playing, then I know the next couple of weeks will be brutal, especially for Isabella, who could barely handle them last time.

The seal of Panem shows up on the cracked screen, while the anthem plays right behind it.

"Is it…" I start to ask Christos.

"Yes." He says, without any further explanation.

Soon, the screen changes, and we all stare at the roaring crowd of the capitol, smiling with delight, knowing what is about to happen. I stare at them in disgust, wishing every single one of them was dead.

The next thing I know, the president himself is on screen, and is announcing the hunger games…

* * *

Avel Dhmitros – President of Panem

* * *

The crowd before me cheers in anticipation, waiting for the words that will send the districts into a frenzy over the next few days. I smile, knowing that the time had finally come. The capitol couldn't wait, and to be frank, I couldn't either. The arena looked rather splendid, the mutations were exciting, and I could just tell the tributes this year would be in for a ride.

I stepped up and raised my hands. All at once, there was silence. With just the power of my hands, I could control the entire capitol. They didn't want to miss a word, I knew the feeling. I always listened closely to my father, before he died. He always wanted me to be strong and cold toward the people, knowing I would one day take his place for the next president of Panem, and now, here I was, everyone listening to me after years of listening to them.

"People of Panem," I began, "It is an honor to be standing here in front of all of you today, to bring you the most exciting news."

The crowd was cheering once again, hungry for the words I was about to bring. _Like rats,_ I thought to myself, starving for the next big thing, eating each other away.

"As you all know, today, is our 90th year of our countries new beginning, since the dark days. To punish the districts for their wrongdoings, we have created the hunger games, as a yearly celebration for our victory over the districts."

They shout again in excitement.

"Now, the time has come again, and after 89 years, we welcome another. It is time…"

The crowd starts to scream, knowing the next words, but I still say them anyway.

"Let the 90th hunger games begin."

* * *

 **I'm about to throw up inside, I'm so freaking nervous…**

 **Anyway, nervousness aside. Welcome to my 90** **th** **Hunger Games SYOT. This is going to be really hard for me since I usually struggle to write a lot, and I'm juggling two SYOT's, but don't worry, I'll try my best. I don't have the best writing in the world, so please bear with me as we move along our journey.**

 **If your brave enough to send a character to me, the form will be below, but please, read the following rules.**

 **1\. I said this in my last SYOT, and I'm saying it again. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send your submission in a PM instead of a review. Not only does it spoil your character, but it makes it harder to scroll through the reviews when you're trying to read what other people are saying. I was a little nice in my last SYOT, but this time, I will not be accepting any tribute that is reviewed. If you are new and cannot send me a PM, please review what district you want to reserve, so no one takes it when you do want to PM me.**

2\. **Please keep it short and simple, I don't mind detail, but since I'm bad at making characters, I'd rather you state the obvious, rather than give me all this work I must write. But you can still detail it if you want, and hell, I'll still try my best.**

 **3\. No bullying or harassing, I won't allow anyone to participate in my story who is rude for no real reason.**

 **4\. All tips and advice are welcome. I usually don't like it when people correct me, but that was a long time ago, I'm trying my best to open up and accept advice. So, hit me with whatever you got, but don't be too negative plz.**

 **5\. Title your PM, Into Darkness SYOT Submission (Along with your characters district, and gender) Example: D12F = District 12 Female**

6\. **Have fun making your character, we're all really here to have fun and state our opinions, so have a good time!**

 **And that's it, here is the form!**

 **SYOT Form**

 **Name: (Obvious)**

 **Age: (Obvious)**

 **District: (Obvious)**

 **Personality: (You can make detailed, but I suck at writing characters, but I'll still try my hardest.)**

 **Backstory: (This should be really detailed, I don't mind backstories like I do personalities, so go all out.)**

 **Face Claim: (Find a picture of someone well known, or just a picture that looks like your tribute, make sure the link works, and make the tribute is in the age range of your tribute.)**

 **Family/Friends: (Nice to have, but you can keep it brief if you want.)**

 **Reaping: (Reaped/Volunteered?)**

 **Reaction/Reason: (How do they react to being reaped, or what is their reason for volunteering?)**

 **Reaping Outfit: (Pretty simple)**

 **Chariot Outfit: (I hate doing these, but if you guys don't want to do these either, I'll just make some of my own.)**

 **Training Strategy: (What they will do in training)**

 **Game maker Score: (Prediction of what your tribute will get)**

 **Interview Angle: (Pretty Simple)**

 **Interview Outfit: (I love doing these, so if you decided to skip it, I won't mind BTW)**

 **Bloodbath Submission: (You don't have to make them a bloodbath submission, but I will have to kill some tributes in the bloodbath, so good luck.)**

 **Games Strategy: (What will they do in the games.)**

 **Open to Allies: (Yes or no or Maybe?)**

 **How do they treat their mentors:**

 **Quote: (Anything you want)**

 **And that's it, I'll try and update every Sunday or Monday, but I might miss some days, since I have school, and I'm working on another SYOT. Broken World Submitters, don't worry, still working on the story.**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire34**


	2. Chapter 2 - Planning Period

Audri Dhmitros - 15 Years Old

* * *

My dress looked very pretty.

I could tell my dad spent a lot of time picking it out for me since it matched everything I wanted on my list. Not a single thing was off design. The silk taffeta was colored as pink as baby's skin, the dress felt as smooth as velvet, and no matter how hard I twist and turned it, the dress never wrinkled at the slightest. The dress was perfect, and yet, I haven't even tried it on.

I was standing in front of my mirror, admiring the dresses beauty. But I wouldn't dare put it on, knowing exactly why my father decided to buy it at all. I could just imagine how my friends would react at the sight of me, pleading and wishing they looked just as flawless as my father made me. Well, they can have it, I never wanted to look this way anyway. It was my attendants who spent an hour brushing my hair, painting my nails, shining my shoes. It was all them, never me.

My golden blonde hair shined as brightly as the sun, my lips were full and sweet like an apple, and my diamond eyes glowed. I looked better than I usually let myself be.

Of course, I knew why I had to look better than I usually do. The games were starting soon after all, and I knew the entire capitol was buzzing with excitement. At school yesterday, it was all my friends could talk about, speculating on what types of tributes there may be, how the arena would look like, how the games would play out. It was all anyone would talk about.

And I talked about it too, but instead of enthusiasm, I answered my friend's cheerful conversations with a bit of hesitation in my voice. Whenever my father would invite his co-workers to talk about the event, I would politely greet them and never look at them again. It was something that many people considered odd since I was the president's daughter after all. Shouldn't I be the most excited for them?

That's what I always thought, a big ball of emotions always formed inside me when the games started to come around again. However, I knew, even as I was watching them, that they were the wrong types of emotions. Full of disgust, sadness, anger, for the children stuck in their enclosed hell, rather than joy like the others. I always tended to hide my displeasure for the games in front of my friends and family, the latter more crucial since my father was always one who hated the districts with a fiery passion.

Sometimes I would slip, and my friends would question me. During the 82nd games, when the sister of Calico Cruz, one of district 8's previous victors, was reaped, everyone cheered and celebrated. Excited to see how a victor's sibling would fair in the games, just like Cashmere and Gloss from district 1. I, however, cried out in alarm when I watched her mount up the steps. I felt just like Calico at that moment, confused, enraged, and just scared for her survival. Everyone was so confused, worrying at my sudden outburst, but I pretended like everything was fine.

It wasn't fine though. Even after she died, and the games ended, I still was kept awake at night by the little girl from district 8. I think I was the only in my group, who paid any attention to her age since everyone seemed to forget that she was just twelve years old when she was reaped, and twelve years old when she died.

I've gotten better at hiding my emotions though, it was easier as I grew older. I would respond to the reaping's in fake excitement and cheer out an empty tune along with my friends as the deaths on the screen kept on going, and going, and going. They would all believe me, except for my father.

The sudden knocking at my door snapped me out of my senses as I looked away from the mirror. Whoever was knocking, did it with artificial type movement, banging on the door one, then twice, then three times until I would answer.

"Coming," I called out, opening the door for them.

As it silently slid open, I could see my father, towering over me, wearing his standard black suit, with his hands behind his back. Tall and still, like a predator ready to strike and an unknowing prey It was a little shocking to see him, not only because he looked so out of place in my small room, since he was a huge muscular man for his age, but also because I expected him to be in an office right now, talking to the new head game maker Adrian Basil, who was much younger than my father. Maybe he finally got bored and left him to check on me.

"Oh," I said, "Hello father. I wasn't expecting you here."

My father didn't even bother to look at me and opted to look around my room, before eyeing my dress that lied on my bed. His huge hands turned into a fist but quickly relaxed. My heart was beating faster now.

"Yes," He said coldly, "I wasn't expecting to be here either, considering you were supposed to be in my office ten minutes ago."

At first, I didn't remember what he was talking about until a cold feeling went up to my body when I remembered that my father wanted to talk to me today about the games. Knowing that I would react with displeasure to knowing it was coming back.

"I'm so sorry, I completely-" I tried to say, but I was immediately cut off.

"Completely lost track of time," he finished as he slid past me and straight toward my bed, "Yes, I know you have, and those are the least of my concerns. What worries me is that you haven't even tried on your dress yet."

I watch as his large boulder-like hands gripped onto my soft dress. It dangled like a doll in his hands as he picked it up. He eyed it up and down and then looked at me, with cold, unforgiving eyes. I knew he was displeased already.

"I was just, you know, trying on some other clothes," I say shyly, which wasn't exactly a lie since clothes were all over the floor, but I didn't tell him that it was from yesterday when I threw them all over the floor in a rage because of the game's announcement.

"And why is that?" He asks.

I gripped tightly onto my skirt, the color draining from my fingers. I could tell he didn't believe me.

"Because my dress was too tight."

He looked me right in the eyes but said nothing. But I could tell he knew I was lying. He could see through anyone, even his so-called happy daughter. He always lectured me about how important the games were, to him, and to my mother, who was killed in one of the district riots as they tried to overthrow the capitol a few years ago. He never tolerated my thoughts on the games, and I would never talk about them with him.

We just stood there until he quietly set the dress down back on the bed. I almost sighed in relief, but he was still in my room. It was odd, to be so nervous around him, he was my father, I should have been so comfortable in his presence, but instead, I stiffened in fear whenever I saw him. Everyone did.

"Nervous?" He asked.

Somehow, I was surprised I didn't nod right away, I was terrified, not only of him but of the games. But I gradually was able to shakily nod my head.

"Don't be, you have no reason to be around me."

It was funny because that was every reason why I was. I didn't want to be in this conversation anymore, it wasn't normal, or calming like the others I used to have with him before mom died, then, he always was gentle and caring to me, now he was distant, emotionally detached from me and only said things nicely to me because I was still his daughter.

"I know father," I said casually, trying to keep myself calm.

He seemed relieved, but not because I actually knew I wasn't nervous around him. I knew how he acted around other people, he was cold and uncaring, artificial in all of his interactions with them. He never treated anyone with respect and treated them cruelly. He obviously hid his actions from the public. But being his daughter, I knew him as well as he knew me. I knew he was going to say more, tell me his life, how he used to be just like me when he never was, he had everything figured out, I still don't know where I'm heading.

"It's okay to talk to me Audri."

I paused, I knew where he was going with this. I had to get out of it now.

"Actually, I would like to try on my dress now," I say.

At first, I think he's going to push it, he opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but, to my surprise, he backs off. I think he's going to stay in my room and watch me get dressed, as he has had servants do that in the pass to make sure I wasn't lying, but simply walks right past me, letting cold air flow near my body. I sigh out in relief but still keep my fist tight.

"Very well," he says quietly, and then closes the door.

Everything is silent and still when he leaves like nothing ever happened. I sit on my bed, trying to calm down from my previous conversation. The dress lies down on the bed, brightly contrasting against the white blanket on my bed. I want to grab a pillow and hold it tightly, just like I did to my father before my mom died. I sigh, there's no use to look into the past anymore, at least not now. After all, I have a hunger game to look forward to, what's the point in thinking about anything else?

It isn't long until I eventually put on my dress and stand in front of the mirror. I do look pretty, but nothing like myself.

Sometimes, I wonder if I was supposed to be born in the districts. I mean, not that I don't like having great friends, and fancy gadgets to play with, and not participating in the hunger games. But I don't think I can consider myself to be like these people, none of them have any humanity in them. None once so ever.

Except me…

It isn't until a few minutes of staring at myself in the mirror before I decide to walk out of the room and let the door close behind me.

* * *

 **So, about that update schedule.**

 **I'll try an update every Sunday, but for the time being, I'm getting all three prologue chapters done before this Sunday. Seems pretty crazy, especially since I have school, so I might not get the third chapter done in time, but hey, you got to dream right?**

 **So far, I've got four tribute submissions. I like to thank call me calamity, 66samvr, and 20 for giving me them. I'll try my best to write them as best as I can. For the time being, however, I still got 20 spots left, so there are a lot of districts to fill up before I can get the reaping's going, and eventually the games.**

 **I also have news for my Walking Dead submitters. I have the chapter done, I just want to get these three chapters out of the way first, before I post that one. Sorry that I'm taking so long. Other than that, though, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and until I get the next one up, I hope you guys can read just these two.**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire45**

 **(Right now, I'm debating whether or not to post this chapter right now on Wednesday, or tomorrow on Thursday.)**


	3. Chapter 3 - Victor's Talk

_Vance Pierce – Victor of the 85_ _th_ _Hunger Games_

* * *

This was not my kind of party.

Not a single one of these kids would even talk to me, which I found a little disheartening. Usually, I liked to grab a couple of beers, crack a few jokes, get the night to move on if you know what I mean. Well, we did have the beers, mine was half empty at this point, but, no one even tried to look at me. They had no clue, did they? Have they forgotten who I am? I, Vance Pierce, who gets surprised so little, was a bit shocked, I mean, my games were the talk of the town when I came home, nobody could forget who was.

But it's whatever you know, it's not like it matters if these guys knew me or not. After all, I knew they were squirming in their butts after I set down my red queen. Oh, how elegant she was, this lucky lady was going to help me win that 10,000 bucks I saw on the table. I could already feel the money dripping down in my pockets as I walked out of the basement. Of course, I didn't need the money, Jolie told me as much when she saw I was heading out, knowing full well that I wasn't "picking up the groceries". But dammit a man's got to have some fun and risk in his life, what's the point in being stinking rich, if you don't play around with the people for it.

Once I set down my queen, a sly smirk curled into my lips. I could see their frustration so easily. Aiden, who was one of the younger ones here, was fidgeting with his cards, sweat dripping down his face. The kid looked about 18. Maybe a contender for the reapings tomorrow? Who knows? Besides that, I was more focused on Milo, who kept grunting while looking down. It looked like the poor bastard was about to tear his cards apart. Vicky, a girl who had one of the ugliest haircuts I've ever seen, simply looked around while hiding her cards behind her hand, nervously looking through what she had. Luke, however, just sat on the other side of the table, his eyes, unmoving and emotionless, like a snake.

 _I think its time we change that,_ my mind seemed to say to me.

I couldn't agree more.

The game continued on as I kept on placing high tier cards onto the table. Aiden, who seemed to be the one mostly struggling with his hand, decided to turn up the heat and place down his black eights. Not a problem for me, but defiantly for Milo, who had decided to place down two fours onto the table. Aiden defiantly beat Milo in that department, but I could tell the last thing Aiden wanted to do was upset Milo, who was towering in his chair. I almost felt sorry for the poor kid, until I saw the pot of money on the table that had yet to be won.

 _Keep your eyes on the prize Vance._

Vicky and Luke went next, both placing down a black queen. In theory, this would overrule my queen, but since they put it down at the same time, they had to overrule each other. I could see Vicky grinding her teeth. The lights in the basement kept flickering on and on, and the air grew hotter. I shifted around uncomfortably in my seat, not because I was nervous, but because the knife in my pocket seemed to touch me in the wrong places.

Luke looked over all of the cards once we placed them, and then passed four more around the table, including one for himself.

"Make your bets," he said as casually as possible.

I grabbed my card and saw an ace. Man, I just couldn't stop winning. Nothing could stop me from smiling.

The others could tell I was going to win, I could see it in their eyes. Aiden looked like he had just accepted defeat and put his cards down to show everyone what a weak stack he had. Vicky eyed me, with a certain hatred in her eyes, as well as Milo. To be honest, Vicky was more terrifying, since her teeth glistened in the light. Maybe it was just me, but was there a bit of red stuck in there?

Luke on the other just sat there and watched, unmoving as ever. I smiled right back at him.

"Let's get this game moving ladies," I called out, "I'm going all in."

I pushed my huge stack of cash toward the pot, where Luke's 10,000 dollars looked childish in comparison. I could see that everyone else was in shock, especially Aiden, who looked like he had never seen so much money in his life. Even Luke had a surprised eyebrow raise, was he not expecting me to bet away all my money? I doubt it, he probably wanted me to do it all along.

It was a risk, fur sure, but at this point, I was way too drunk to really care about my money. Besides, I was a man of risk, it was how I won my games, and how I was going to win this one.

Everyone put out their card slowly. Vicky put down two queens she had, a royal flush it seems.

Milo took out his feeble king.

Aiden, who was destined to lose, put down two tens.

Luke put down an ace.

It was my turn, I looked down at my hand, to see I still had an ace, a seven, another queen, and my two threes'.

…

…

…

I decided to put down my ace first.

…

…

…

Then my queen.

Everyone was silent as Luke stared at my cards. I could see as clear as day, the dumbfounded look on his face.

I was going to win.

It took a few seconds before Luke could even get out the words.

"Vance's ace and queen beat out, Vance wins."

"HELL, YEAH BABY," I screamed toward the high heavens, "LET'S GO!"

Vicky screamed and threw her pathetic cards at me. Aiden tried to say good game to me, but Milo, demonstrating poor sportsmanship, stood up and flipped the table, causing a color of cards, chips, and drinks to smash to the floor. I watched in amusement as the bottles shattered on the floor, making puddles of beer.

"YOU CHEATED," Milo yelled, "YOU LYING BASTARD, YOU CHEATED."

His words didn't impress me in the slightest, in fact, I laughed at his comment and bent down to pick up my money.

"Actually, I prefer the term, luck of the draw buddy, and besides, I didn't cheat, just ask Luke, he passed me the cards."

And it did look like Milo was going to ask Luke, as he turned around to scream vicious things at him, but all it took for Milo to shut up was a simple glance from Luke, and that was the end of that. I just laughed as I collected the money from the floor, hundreds of thousands of dollars laid in my pocket and jacket, right next to my knife. Once I picked everything up, I sighed and rubbed my hands together.

"Welp, this had been fun and all, but I have to go, I got a date with my bed tonight."

I chuckled as I started to ascend the stairs when I felt something grab me from behind. Whoever had, pulled me back so hard that I fell down the stair and hit my head on the floor. At first, I was struck with fear, the careers have found me. They're going to finish me off. But after the pain in my head subsided, I could see that I wasn't in the arena, but rather the cruddy basement where I played cards a few seconds ago, with Luke towering over me with a knife.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked coldly.

Great, I was going to die.

"I'm sorry," I say laughing a little, not wanting my fear to reach my voice, " But what do you think you're doing mister, do you know who I am?"

Luke, for the first time ever, laughed, and ugly, sly laugh. It was scarier than Vicky's teeth shining in the light.

"Did you think we didn't?"

Then, Milo, Vicky, and even little Aiden came up, surrounding me with weapons of their own. Dammit.

"Your Vance Pierce, Victor of the 85th hunger games and a popular figure in district 4. You would have to be brain dead to even think we didn't know you."

Milo picked me up by my shirt and threw me to the wall, pain erupted in my torso and head. I tried to stand up, but Luke pinned me. His knife glistened in the flickering light of the basement, it was way to sharp for my liking. I tried to punch him, but he grabbed my left arm and twisted it. It hurt all right, but I wasn't about to scream in front of a 34-year-old. This guy must be an idiot, does he not know what was going to happen soon?

"Well, you must be real dumbass to think the capitol would accept this, they need a _male_ _victor_ to mentor the male tributes. Did you forget about that?"

The face Luke made was something I would never forget. His face twisted in confusion, the anger seeping from his eyes. He shook violently, and I could feel the knife cut into my throat. The pain started to erupt again, just like in the games. The careers would chase me relentlessly, every time they found me, I would have to run a new distance, experience a new kind of pain. I've felt this before, but this time, I was free, and I was going to die free.

"Where were you to mentor my little brother Pierce?"

Shit, so that means I should know who he is right? But I don't, and it may be a little selfish, but I don't even remember the tribute he's talking about, so many come and go, and the only success I've had was Jolie. But other than her, kids just kept dying under my watch. At this point, I don't even know what tribute feel worse about. I would attend their funerals, mourn with their families, but after enough drinks, the memories would stop soon. Now, there flushing right on back.

"Okay, okay, just please put the knife down. What do you want, money? I could give you tons of it, just please, take it and get the hell out of my face!"

The kids laughed, except Aiden, who looked ashamed and depressed. Serves the kid right, I don't even feel that bad for him anymore, what I'm most concerned about is these other freaks.

"Oh, will take the money," Vickey said, "and your life."

"Time for you to experience some real pain," Milo stated.

Luke pushed me to the wall, and I could see the knife pressing down into my skin. The pain crawled along my throat, causing my throat to burn, unlike any other alcohol I've ever drunk before. I could faintly hear Milo and Vicky laughing, and I could see Aiden looking up in anger, but all I could really see were Luke's eyes, cold and unforgiving.

"Any last words old man?" Luke said.

Talking was getting hard now, but I knew I had to say something, something to distract Luke for long enough for me to grab the knife in my back pocket.

"I hope," I sputter out, "I hope you know, that when the games come, you're the one who gets reaped."

Poor choice of words, I know, but it takes a few seconds for Luke to process what I mean, like my words have a deeper meaning than life. Sorry pal, but in reality, my hands have gripped onto the handle of my knife.

Before I can strike, Luke screams out in pain as something smashes onto his head. A beer bottle, I can see the logo. It smashes into pieces and Luke lets me go. It takes me a quick glance to see that it's Aiden, who holds a broken bottle in his hand.

In a flash, I take up my knife and stab Milo in the eye, he screams in such pain that it almost reminds me of Emma from district 2 that I killed in the final 8. Milo doesn't get a chance to touch me, because I already slash his throat and turn toward Vickey, who had a wooden bored raised in her hand. I throw the knife in her direction, and it enters her shoulder. She screams and falls to the ground, trying to pull the knife out.

Before I can finish the job, Luke pops up and grabs me, I see the knife raised, ready to strike. Only to fall limp when I hear him scream in agony. Aiden, covered in blood, has taken the bottle and stabbed Luke in the back of the neck. Damn, that was brutal. And it doesn't take long for Luke to bleed out right in front of me.

I stand there, trying to calm down after the insane card game I just played. Aiden stands above the bodies of the three kids. He looks shocked, even traumatized at what he just did.

"I-I can't believe I did that!" He screams, gripping onto his bloody hair.

I stand up, putting the knife back in my pocket. That was certainly intense, hell, even a bit of fun. If only because it was fun to look over at Aiden, who walks around in circles cursing himself out for what he just did.

"I'm going to be thrown in jail," he starts, "or executed! What-what if they put me in the games because of this! Oh, man, I f**ked u!"

"Calm down kid," I say annoyed, gripping onto his jacket. Somehow, this is what it takes for him to stop and look up at me. "You saved my life, and those three kids attempted to murder me, there is no way in hell you are going to jail for this. Just calm down."

The kid keeps breathing in and out, really quickly. He can't even slow down. Nothing I saw will keep him cool. So, I look around and pick up some of the money that fell out of my pocket and give it to him. He looks shell-shocked when he sees it in his hand.

"Wh-what? Why are you giving this to me?"

I start up the stairs, but I turn back around and give him a pat on the shoulder.

"Because you saved my life, and that's a debt I don't want on my conscious. So please just take the money, and will call it even. Go feed your family or whatever."

Before he can even respond, I'm going back up the stairs and staggering toward the front door. I take a beer on the way out, as a sort of victory drink. It takes all my energy to walk to the door and hold onto the door frame of Luke's house. Blood spreads onto the white walls. My jacket is shredded, I have a bloody knife in my pocket, and I bruised to high hell.

I can live with that.

Until I hear Aiden come up behind me. I want to shoo him away, but there's no stopping this kid. It feels like the games are beginning already, and I'm trying to teach him the ups and downs of survival. I turn around, to see him struggling to speak. He has tears and his eyes, and for some odd reason, he's smiling.

"What is it?"

He doesn't answer right away, he just looks down until I threaten to leave.

"Just, thank you so much." He says.

I snort, turning around to open the door. I have to get out of here now because the more I hang around this kid, I don't hate him, in fact, I kind of like him, and that's why I need to get away before I have a chance to feel regret about what might happen to him.

"I know, kid," I say, and then stagger outside.

* * *

 _Aluna Fern – Victor of the 74_ _th_ _Hunger Games_

* * *

It was pouring outside…

The rain seemed to last all day, ever since I got up and went to the kitchen. I gripped my hands tightly around the cup of coffee, the heat having warmed my fingers from the bitter cold I face on this gloomy day. I tried to calm down, slow my breathing, but no matter what I did, the days still counted down toward the reaping. Another two kids I would have to mentor, another two kids who would possibly die because of me, another two, perhaps three weeks of mourning for the families.

I hear thunder outside, it quietly rumbles the earth around me. I close my eyes tightly, trying not to go into a panic attack like I did all those nights ago.

It's hard to believe I ever became a victor, even shocking that I became district 12's victor. I never would have guessed all those years ago during my reaping, that I would have survived the arena. Now, here I am, silently waiting for Sofie to walk through the door and comfort me as she does every year. It frightens me to think about who I will have to mentor, what kids will suffer the same fate that so many kids from district 12 have to face

I know I shouldn't be just sitting around, waiting painfully for reaping day, I should be doing something. Maybe training, or gardening to keep my mind off of things. A lot of other victors do this, they drink their problems away, or train until the day turns to night. Some sit down and write, while others sit in the back garden and water their plants. I haven't done any of these things.

They all keep talking to me, saying that it gets better with time an age, but now I'm 31, and nothing has gotten better. Nightmares plague my dreams every night, people all over the district hate me, I can't do anything to ward off the thoughts that haunt my mind. Everything seems to get worse. They keep on getting worse now.

I look out the window, where lighting and thunder evade my vision. Light seems to crack through the dark clouds and crash somewhere in the distance. I can feel my bones begin to shake as the sound of the lighting blot travels to me. I tremble.

Sofie is the only reason district 12 even has a mentor left. I would have ended it all a long time ago without her. She always comes, and calms me down, she always does. She never lies to me with fake words like, "it's going to be alright", nothing like that. She's real, at least, more real than any other friend I have.

 _There still your friends though,_ I try to think, but I know I'm lying to myself. Friends would be helping you through your problems, not fuel them even more. The victors are too traumatized like me to be any real help. At least they're not like Axel Wren, who is so terrified of the games, and he won last year. Every time we victors have to meet up at the capitol, he either never attends, or shows up broken, eyes dark, hair wild and sharp, his body ready to break itself apart. He's only fifteen, we say to each other, he's had a younger mind then the rest of us, that's why he's so scared. Then why am I as scared as him.

It's the game makers, we try to pretend it's not, but we all know it. Adrian Basil, the new head game maker for this year, has always been a bit off. He's so young and yet disturbing. We've all seen him at least once. He always is talking about some far-off legend or some book from the always seems like he's trapped in the past, conjuring up some new idea our ancestors used to do. It's his first year, and he's way too enthusiastic about it.

He keeps talking about events from the past, like the eruption of Pompeii, the sinking of the RMS Titanic, the 9/11 attacks and so on. He would bring up so many different books and legends, knowing it was forbidden by law, but still did it anyway, he would keep telling us about slender men, and a mist. He would talk about the shining, and aliens, and Jason Vorhees. He would conjure up facts long forgotten by us today. World war 2, the dark ages, the last ice age.

The list goes on and on.

He must have some awful thing cooking up for the tributes this year. We all just know it, the question is, what is it going to be?

At this point, the coffee's heat has lurched out of my fingers entirely. I haven't taken a sip of it, and yet, I feel so comforted with it near me, not like I have anything else to be comforted by. My family has died, they died a long time ago when I first won. My mother died while I was in the games. So, I came back home to nothing, except Sophie, my only true friend. I invited her to live with me, but she couldn't, only family members are allowed to live in victor's village, but she still comes to visit me every day.

Except for today, because she's late. Very late, in fact, she should have been here 10 minutes ago, bot of us would have been chatting over our favorite books, and laughing at each other's stories. Where was she?

To calm myself, I get up and make another cup of coffee, for Sofie, since she does like coffee as much as me. Before I won, we could never afford it and opted to drink tea instead. I still have a passion for that sort of drink, but coffee just makes my senses burst, it makes me feel more alive and robust, then I allow myself to be.

The sound of the rain outside, and the warmth of the second cup in my hand had me feeling calmer then I have in weeks. The only thing that would make this moment more perfect is if Sophie was right there next to me.

How she would love this moment.

* * *

 **I was dreading writing this chapter, but as it turns out, this is the most fun I've ever had making one. My personal favorite victor right now is Vance, because he's so fun. I tried to portray them as best as I could, so I hope you like these two! Tell me your thoughts on Aluna and Vance!**

 **Okay, so right now, I just want to thank everyone so far for the submissions. They've all been great, and I'm so excited to write down the reapings. Now, I know everyone doesn't like the reapings since there repetitive and annoying to review and read through but cut me some slack here, this is my first SYOT, and I'm going to try an consider everyone, including myself.**

 **Right now, district 4 is the only full district, so that will be the first reaping. I'll start writing it after I finish with my other SYOT chapter, so I hope you guys can be patient!**

 **And that's really it since I'm done with the three prologues before the reaping's, I'm going to finish up the broken world chapter I've been putting off for a long time. Sorry guys about that, if your still there, I'm going to get it out soon, just hold on!**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire45**

 **(P.S: I love my family an all, but when I ask them to proofread my chapter, they don't really seem to care, and accidentally let me post chapters with spelling mistakes, weird dialogue, etc. So, if anyone's down for it, I need someone to help me improve and proofread my chapters, since I have so much stuff going on in my life, and I can't do it myself. If you want to know more, please PM me!)**


	4. Chapter 4 - District 1 Reaping

_Zeus Scrapper – 18 Years Old_

 _District 1 Male_

* * *

The reapings were a very special event for most people in district one, it's meant to represent that the games have officially come back for the year. Hundreds of eager kids at the training center were rushing to stations every day, to practice their last-minute knife throwing skills, or the rock-climbing test, making sure that they were the official volunteer. Yes, the reapings were a very special event indeed.

So, where the hell was I?

Sitting behind a bush in front of Ms. Faux's house, trying not to giggle too loudly.

My friends were with me as well, all of them trying to shush each other and muffle their laughs. They were doing a horrible job at it because it was making me laugh more. However, that was okay with me, I liked to smile and laugh with the people closest to me, even if It was for the stupidest reasons, it was still fun.

Valerian and Hera had made an appearance for the prank, but Iidan had not yet made his entrance. Probably being the mayor's child, he would have a lot of responsibilities to do on reaping day. I haven't seen Rocco either, who usually would love to see pranks like these, but for whatever his reasons for not attending were beyond me. I tried not to worry about it too much since worrying isn't what I do very often, that's Hera's job.

"What if we get caught?" she started asking, "we could get in huge trouble for this. We should just go home and get dressed for the reaping."

I laughed, but just a little bit to not hurt her feelings, since Hera was a very sensitive person, and a bit of a crybaby to be honest. The slightest thing that hurt or upset would set her off and make her cry, I didn't need Hera's screaming and tears to bring Ms. Faux out early.

"We won't get in trouble," I answered back, "I made sure of it."

"Oh yeah? Why do you think that?"

Valerian chimed in before I even was able to speak out my sentence.

"Ms. Faux usually needs glasses to see things clearly, but without them, she's as blind as a bat, and we know she usually doesn't put them on during the reaping until she's ready to go to the square. Does it sound like Ms. Faux is ready to go yet?"

We all listened quietly and heard Ms. Faux bang into something hard.

"Nope," I answered smiling.

Me and Valerian couldn't help but suppress a giggle, while Hera just squirmed and tried to get a better look of the bag we placed on her porch. This caused me to frown, but only slightly since I was still enjoying the day so far. Sometimes, I wonder if me and Valerian are meant to be friends with people like Hera and Iidan. There just to logical and worrying to really look at life in a different way, and to have fun with most of the townsfolk in district one.

That's just one of the perks that I get from being friends with Valerian, knowing half of the townsfolk in the district, me and Valerian can have a little fun, and since she is just like me, I have a blast hanging out with her more than the others. Sure, she's much smarter, but that's because I need her to be smart. She's the reason half of these pranks I pull on people work, without people like her, I would be completely lost in the world.

We all started to grow quiet as we heard noises coming from the house. A shuffle here, and muffle there. I think I could see her picking up something through her slightly open window.

"When do you think she's going to come out?" Valerian asked, peeking back toward the white painted porch to get a better look at the scene.

"She should probably come out soon," I answered back, even though I really had no idea if Ms. Faux's was still in her house. She could have left early for the reaping; a lot of people already do. But a deep feeling in my gut told me that she was in that house, sitting in her chair, just itching to go outside for a nice walk to the square, to watch all the action. She'll eventually step through that door.

A couple more seconds went by, and she still wouldn't leave. At this point, I was growing restless, how long does it take for sixty-year-old women to change? Maybe five minutes, but not twenty. So, as the funniest guy on the team, I decided to take leadership.

I shushed my friends and quietly went up the door to Ms. Faux's house. I took extra care to not destroy any of her flowers that lined near the pathway leading up to her porch. I silently ascended the steps, and past the brown paper bag, we left her. It smelled awful, and I had to cover my nose to block out the smell. It was so bad, I had to wonder, what else did we put in there?

I knocked on her door hard, so hard that my knuckles started to hurt and turn red.

"Hold up I'm coming!"

I sighed in relief, good, she heard, and is here, and is coming out the door any second now.

I quickly jumped off the porch and run all the way to the bush Hera and Valerian were hiding behind. Some of my training did kick in, and I jumped over to the bush without making a sound, just as Ms. Faux was opening the door.

"Who's there!"

I peered around the bush to see her reaction to the present we left her, but I couldn't take my eyes off her face.

Ms. Faux looked very gorgeous like most women do in district one, but I was very surprised to see her retain about half of her young form. Her skin wasn't so wrinkled, her hair was golden blonde and shining, and for a woman of sixty years old, her face look's particularly young.

However, no matter what her face looks like, nothing could prepare me for the look on her face when she saw the bag. I can just imagine how horrified she must've been when she saw the amount of dog shit, vomit, and piss we put inside. Her face contorted into shock, as she kicked the bag away and threw off her shiny black high heel in disgust. We died laughing and all started to run away.

"Zeus! Is that you! If it is, I swear I will be contacting your parents about this young man!"

I didn't bother to hear the rest of what she was saying, because I was already high fiving my friends as we ran down to the road.

* * *

 _Leonra Carlisle – 18 Years Old_

 _District 1 Female_

* * *

The sun was shining through the curtains of my window, casting a golden beam of sunlight into my room. Dust particles danced in the air, seeming to fly effortlessly without any form or reason. I could hear the leaves outside rustling, indicating a slight breeze for the upcoming reaping day. Faintly, I could hear my grandmother preparing breakfast.

I had no idea what time it was, but I didn't really care, all I cared about was getting to the reapings as soon as possible this year. If I failed, I would never be able to enter the games again. Funny, to most teens, turning eighteen is a blessing rather than a curse. No longer having to participate in the reaping is like getting a ticket to heaven for most people.

However, I can't stay here. If I miss that window, that opportunity to leave my home behind, then I'll be stuck here in hell for eternity. Waking up every day to see my disappointed grandparents, eyeing me at the dining room. Screaming every night from nightmares for my parents, only to remember they're gone. And the most damming of all, looking down at my little sister, only to see the faint scratch marks on her face.

That thought alone is enough to get me out of my bed, my black hair flying over my face. I quickly push it aside and eye the room for the wardrobe. Best start the day by dressing as best as I can. I stand up, firmly planting my feet onto the wood covered floor. My wardrobe isn't far, just a quick walk past the staffs I train with and I'm already eyeing its contents.

The first thing I notice is my training clothes, from when I trained with my sister. I slam the drawer shut. Squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I can, struggling to maintain hold of the handle. Breathing is hard, and my hands are shaky, I can't seem to get a good gulp of air.

After a few seconds, I open the drawer again, seeing the outfit lying silently on top of my black pants. It was so long ago, but I don't want to ever remember that moment ever again, I can still hear the slight rustle of the hospital bed, and the dripping water from the sink, playing right with the sound of the beeps from the medical devices that line my sisters' bed.

I push the clothes aside in a hurry and quickly pick up a small white jacket. The jacket itself is shiny and clean, nothing like me right now. I put it on my bed and hurry to find the other pieces of clothing. I eventually come up with a black and white striped shirt, jet black pants, along with high heels that contain the same color.

Once I finish laying the clothes out, I sit down near my mirror and start to brush my hair. It's straight and clean by the time I'm done with it. I put the hairbrush down and work on my face next.

"Leonra! Breakfast is ready! Are you coming or not?!"

My grandfather, of course, he would be the one calling me. He's always so impatient.

"Coming!" I call back.

I finish applying the makeup on my face and dress up quickly in the clothes I selected. There somewhat comfy and I can easily move around with them. Not wanting my grandfather waiting, I walk out of the room and meet my family at the large dining room. The house is pretty big in itself, but since my grandparents are the directors of one of the training centers, I'm not surprised. They must make a lot of money shouting at kids and teaching them different weapon techniques.

Before my parents died, my grandparents used to babysit me and my sister while my parents were away at some capitol meetings. They would show us around the building, explaining the different stations, what each weapon did, and how to use them. Now that my mom and dad were gone, I went their full time, all day and even into the night. That was, before the accident anyway. I train in my room now, never leaving it, always practicing, and only occasionally showing up for meals.

The moment I enter, I can see a nice big meal presented on the table. A juicy turkey and mashed potatoes lay quietly in the middle of the table waiting for me. Bits and pieces of roasted rabbits and creamy orange chicken lie on plates, ready to be eaten. It all looked so good, and I forgot the last time I had a big meal.

"Well, look who finally decided to join us." My grandmother commented, "You know we don't take to kindly to those who are late, right Leonra?"

"Yes grandmother," I answered, a bit sheepishly I must admit, "I'll come on time from now on."

Even though they were my grandparents, they still treated me and my sister like we were one of their students.

"Remember the last time you said that?" My grandfather chimes in, "You were late for one of your training sessions, and you said you'll come on time. The next thing I know, you're one hour late for your communications training."

I didn't say a word, just nodded my head, remembering the stern look my grandfather came when I ran into the room panting and sweating on that night.

"Grandpa," my sister says, "you know it was just because she was helping with my school project at the last minute,"

The moment my sister talks, it makes me smile but also makes my heart drop like an atomic bomb. I've always enjoyed my sisters' company, but after what happened, I don't even like to hear her speak, let alone defend me from an argument.

"It's okay sis, there right, I need to manage my time better. Don't worry about me."

My sister gives me a look, a look I've seen so many times when my sister is suspicious of something. I expect a full-blown fight; however, she just shrugs and continues sipping on her water.

Once it seems clear that the argument is done, I sit down right next to my grandmother, who was cutting away at the turkey leg she just had picked up. Grandpa was not eating anything, simply reading the newspaper. My sister sat right across from me, indulging in a bit of pancake that lies on her plate. I watched as she tore off a big chunk of the pancake and ate it. The scratch marks were still visible on her face.

I reach out for a chunk of turkey, only to take an apple slice instead. I bite into it, causing sweet juice to run down my throat. We eat in silence, with the occasional conversation popping up here and there between my sister and my grandmother. The clock ticks slowly, as the reaping approaches. We eat a bit more before neither of us can take another bite.

After a few minutes, we walk out of the house, heading toward the district square. Before we leave the door, I take one more look at my sister. She's frowning a bit, walking with straight clear steps alongside my grandmother. My grandmother looks excited, and my grandfather actually talks to her about stuff I don't care about.

They must know, right? That I will volunteer for the games. I know they would die if I missed the chance. All that training wasted. All those years, gone. All those mishaps, futile. I know that they want me to volunteer, but will my sister allow it? She probably doesn't want me to go so soon, and she might get lonely. Is it worth it if I leave her to join the games?

I can't make up my mind, even when we reach the district square.

* * *

 _Zeus Scrapper – 18 Years Old_

 _District 1 Male_

* * *

The black shirt my parents provided me with is tight, I can't help but try and stretch it. But I somehow manage to stand still. Right in front of us is the temporal stage that they have set up just for the reaping. I can see the big bowls, filled with white slips with thousands of names on them. To bad the person picked will never get to even make it to the stage. There are always volunteers in district 1.

 _Volunteers_

The word makes me sick, remember that Joseah is the official volunteer this year. He must be in the crowd somewhere, probably smuggling smirking at the thought of going into the games. Being the official volunteer doesn't mean shit. There's always another person to take your place, and I'll be that person. There's no way in hell I am missing this chance, especially since Ms. Faux will probably be looking for me after the reaping.

The mayor and a couple of victors sit in chairs on the stage. Everyone cheers when they see them. Survivors of the games, the most popular person all around.

 _That's going to be me._

It takes a while for the teenagers to file into their respected areas, and an even longer time making sure everyone is present. It bores me to tears, nothing to do, no jokes to pull. I can't even interact with the boys around me. They're so fixated on the stage that it looks like they're trying to make lasers pop out of their eyes., ready to lunge at the opportunity to volunteer.

My parents must be worried, and excited. When you're eighteen in a career district, it's you're final, and best chance to volunteer. Miss it, and you're out of the games for life. I've seen eighteen-year-olds in the past coming home crying to their parents about not being able to get onto the stage. That won't be me this year. I've trained too hard for this, I've worked day and night for this, and I will not be leaving the reaping, knowing that Joseah is volunteering this year, not at all.

Finally, the escort, China Gigi I think her name was, comes out. She looks so freakishly ugly that even a positive guy like me can just see how desperate she tries to look young. Her face contorted and plastic, trying to remove the wrinkles on her skin. Her body so thin that it looks like she might break in two, like a stick. She smiles, but her eyes go up as if they're connected in some way. Her body is so distracting, that I don't even notice that she's speaking until she's speaking about what an honor it is to be here.

"I have to admit," she starts, "I would have never thought I would be up here escorting district one, but here I am, and I couldn't be happier presenting the tributes for this year's games."

I roll my eyes, just get on with it lady.

"Pardon me, I must be interrupting the whole reaping. Let's get this started, shall we?"

Oh wait, you're moving too fast.

"As usual, let's start with the ladies!"

She walks over to the girl's bowl and starts digging around with her fingertips. All the girls are quiet, none of them say a word as she picks up the slip.

"The female tribute for district one is, Isabel Jade!"

The poor girl barely has time to make it out of her section before thousands of girls raise their hand.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

I don't know who shouted first, but the escort points at one of them and an eighteen-year-old girl comes running out of her section. I can hear a girl plea for her to stay, but the girl ignores it and runs up onto the stage.

"Oh, how exciting! A volunteer! What's your name dear?"

The girl speaks loud and confident.

"My name is Leonra Carlisle. Your future victor for district one!"

Everyone starts to cheer, except for some of the girls, who scream horrible things at her. It makes me smile, I wonder how Valerian and Hera are dealing with that.

"What an exciting start, how about we move onto the boys?"

My heart stops, warm blood pumps through my body as China moves the slips of paper around. It's like a vortex, turning and turning all around. I can't tell what's going to happen. All the boys are waiting for it.

China actually gets the slip and reads the name, and before she can even finish, I jump up and volunteer.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

I run out of my section and right up to the stage before they can ignore me. However, because of this, I didn't even notice the paint cans sitting on the steps of the stairs and I trip on them. Pink, blue, and red spill onto my pants, and soon, I look like a painting canvas. All the kids start to laugh, which makes me laugh too. They seem to be really enjoying the show. Maybe I'll lose sponsors, they certainly don't want a clown to win, but, I don't really give a crap.

I pick myself up and pretend to almost trip on the microphone cord, startling the escort. She recovers, however, and quickly ask for my name.

"What an enthusiastic young lad, and what might your name be?"

I smile.

"My name is Zeus Scrapper, and I'm here entering the games to make sure I make all of you laugh, or I die trying, literally."

* * *

 _Leonra Carlisle – 18 Years Old_

 _District 1 Female_

* * *

The line for the sign in is quite large, and it takes a while for the line to move forward. Once I make it to the front, they quickly draw my blood, like all the other times they've done it, and I walk toward the eighteen-year-old section. I catch a glimpse of my sister in the fifteen-year-old section before she is obscured by another girl's head. I stand quietly in my section, silently hating that we never get to sit down, or were provided with chairs, we just stand quietly until everyone comes on in. It's kind of tiring after a while.

Soon, everyone makes it in and the escort steps up, looking just as freakish as usual. I could never get past the weird fashion sense the capitol has. Anyway, she quickly talks about what an honor it is to be there and then stops to call out the slips.

"As usual, let's start with the ladies!" she calls out.

Everyone is quiet and still. No one dares move yet as the escort digs through the repaing bowl. As this happens, my life flashes before my eyes. My grandparents training me with spears, my sister in a coma, my parents funeral. So many things happen at once, that I almost miss the name.

"The female tribute for district one is, Isabel Jade."

No one waits, we all fly into the air, screaming to volunteer. But I know I'm faster, and nothing will stop me. I scream so loud that I think I tore apart my vocal cords. But it was worth it, because the next thing I know, the escort is calling for me to come up the stage.

I take off, faintly hearing my sisters cries and pleas behind me. My heart aches for her, but I know I have to do this, not only as a career but just to get away from my home, my entire life. I need to escape.

"Oh, how exciting! A volunteer! What's your name dear?"

I make sure to speak loudly into the microphone.

"My name is Leonra Carlisle. Your future victor for district one!"

A little corny maybe, but, I am still confident. I might just make it home, to wealth, to fame, and to glory. Everyone cheers, except some of the girls, who throw curse words my way, but otherwise, it's a good start. I haven't missed my chance, I've made it into the games. I force a smile, hopefully, sponsors will remember me.

"What an exciting start, how about we move onto the boys?"

I watch as the escort moves over to the boys reaping bowl. All of the boys are quiet now, probably sweating to volunteer, especially the eighteen-year-olds, who must be fighting in to take air into their body.

She picks one up, and before she can even finish saying who it is, a boy cries out.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

He staggers out of his section and runs to the stairs. I try and get a good look at him, but then he trips over some paint cans. Paint flies everywhere, almost hitting my jacket, but I dodge it just in time. Everyone laughs, and he appears to be laughing with them, almost embracing the laughs.

 _So, we got a joker as my district partner…_

He almost trips over the microphone cord, and the escort is a bit taken aback, but she somehow recovers and is able to ask his name.

"My name is Zeus Scrapper, and I'm entering the games to make sure I make all of you laugh, or I die trying, literally."

Everyone loves him already, since there cheering and laughing a lot.

Oh, God.

The mayor finishes his speech about how all of this is required, and soon were shaking hands. The boy is grinning, smirking even, but I stare him dead on. I'm not much of a joker.

"I promise when I win, I'll throw a feast in your honor. Well, more for my entertainment per say." He says.

"Not like you're going to win." I fire back.

"True, but the odds are in my favor, right?"

I roll my eyes.

 _I hope not._

* * *

 **Thank you so much to Axe Smelling God, and santiago .poncini20 for providing me with these two tributes! I love them to death, and I hope I wrote them as best as I could!**

 **The next reaping should be district 2. The District 2 male is still available, so once I get him, I can start the next one. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!**

 **(Edit: Sorry if the writing is bad, I've looked through this chapter like eight times, and I still don't know if I got everything right.)**


	5. Chapter 5 - District 2 Reaping

_Diana Slater – 17 Years Old_

 _District 2 Female_

* * *

Four hours.

Four hours my brother and I have been in the training academy with my mother. My knuckles were bruised, my hands ached, and my body screamed in pain. Everything hurt, but it didn't stop me from trying to beat my record. Eight seconds, that was my current record for knocking off a dummies head with my bare hands, and my mother was trying to push me harder than ever before to break it.

"How hard is it to beat off a dummies head!" she kept shouting.

Apparently, really hard; this dummy my mother provided me had really tough skin, almost feeling like concrete. You'd think that after years of slashing it with swords, shooting it with arrows, and piercing it with spears, that it might have worn down. Nope, this dummy seemed to only get stronger. No matter how much I punched, kicked, or smashed it, its dumb smiling head was still on. It makes me angry, not only not being able to destroy the dummy, but knowing when it comes to my mother, she always wants me to take on the most physically demanding things possible.

Which is why I think my mother has me doing this exercise, wanting to see if I got my hand-to-hand combat training under my belt, and the results really show. One punch to the face knocks the dummy right onto the ground. Quickly, I stomp down on it, crushing it with all my weight. The dummy's head does seem to come off very quickly after that. And just like that, my eight-second record was shortened down to four. -

I don't try and relax or calm down from the four-hour workout I just had. My mother doesn't usually like it when I sit down or try and gulp in air. She wants me to push myself more and more to the point of exhaustion. It was always my father who calmed her down and let me rest, my mother wouldn't on her own. Luckily, she doesn't seem to be paying attention to me, as she checks her watch and I see her smile in pleasure.

"Four seconds, not bad," she says, writing the number onto her notepad. "Maybe if we practice every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we can really shorten that time."

I laugh or try to. It's more of a whispery, airy laugh since I don't even have any air in my body right now.

"You might want to extend that to include Tuesday and Thursday," I reply. "Hand-to-hand combat isn't really my field."

My mother looks up and smiles.

"Of course, dear, whatever it takes for you to win the games."

A part of me questions her sincerity to that statement, but then an aching pain comes back from my hand again, and I just forget about it while trying to soothe my palm. Besides, I'm not really in line to question my mother's motives for wanting me to succeed. I can see why my mother pushes me so hard. She just wants me to win; and I want to win as well when the time comes for me to volunteer.

My mother then passes me a water bottle full of cold liquid. I thank her and chug down the entire bottle. I cough a bit but laugh it off, and surprisingly, my mother smiles a bit. Maybe she does really care for my well-being.

"Okay, let's start training with the spears again," she announces.

Even though I'm tired, I still agree, since spears are one of my favorite weapons to use besides ranged weapons. I grab one of the sharpest spears I can find and start training. I practice with spears for a little bit, absolutely destroying the dummies in the process, but I get tired pretty quickly. I've done enough melee training for one day.

I look behind me and see the clock. It's almost time to go to the reaping, and soon, I won't be able to train until the whole thing blows over.

"Hey, mom," I say, watching her check her watch. "Can I practice archery really quick?"

At first, I'm afraid she is going say we don't have enough time and drag my brother and I out of the training academy. Instead, she just looks up and nods.

"Whatever you want to do, dear," my mother calls out.

Great, some alone time. I use this time to walk around the training center to the archery station far away in the corner of the building. My brother, Vulcan, must be practicing with the swords because I hear him grunting along with the clash of a blade hitting something. He must be destroying whatever is in there, considering that there are bits and pieces of cloth flying out of the room. I consider visiting him, but the urge to try out the bow and arrows before the reaping starts overtakes me. Besides, he doesn't need me distracting him from his training.

It's not a far walk over to my favorite station, archery, where bows and arrows of all types line the wall. It makes me giddy with excitement, like a child opening their Christmas presents. Even though there are hundreds of bows, I have tried them all and have mastered every single one of them. Besides spears, I think I'm at my best when I have a ranged weapon by my side. No need to engage an enemy close up, you can play with a bow defensively, and offensively. It's the perfect weapon in my mind.

When I make it inside, I realize that archery station is dead. Not a single person is in sight. I usually like it when there are other people to chat with by my station, but this is better. Less noise to deal with. I pick up a small bow, along with a quiver of arrows. The bow is definitely sturdy enough to not break apart, but not too hard for me to draw the string. It's just right.

I step up to my section, where the holographic target waits silently at the far end of the room. For a bit more of a challenge, I increase the distance by a little bit. When it's far away enough, I stop. My hand grips firmly onto the bow, it seems to be vibrating in my hands, like it's alive, telling me exactly what I need to do.

Standing straight, I pull the string way back until I feel like it can't take anymore. It's a bit tight, but I'm used to it now. The arrow tries to escape, but my grip holds it in place. Everything blurs out and I just focus on the target. It's brightly colored. I don't even have to look at it, because I know exactly where it's positioned. I might not be the best boxer in the world, but give me a bow and arrow any day, and I'll take out anything with just a few shots, just watch. I release the string and watch the arrow fly through the air. It slams right into the bullseye area of the target.

It feels so good, watching the arrow fly right into the center. I take another and shoot it again. It flies and lands right in the middle. The two arrows now dangle above the ground. I take a third, and shoot.

It hits.

I take another arrow and shoot it. It's mesmerizing to watch it fly. No matter what I do to stay serious, I can't help but enjoy myself. In fact, I use up quite a lot of arrows and would have used more if I didn't hear someone behind me.

"Diana, are you listening to me?"

Startled, I turn around and see my brother, almost towering over me. He might be younger than me, but he is way larger then I give him credit for. If he's here, however, and not training, then it means its time to go for the reaping.

"Yeah, I am," I answer, "Is it time?"

He nods.

"We should go then, we don't want to keep anyone waiting."

I put the bow down quickly and start out after my brother, we both leave very quickly, but I turn around one last time to see that the target is full of arrows, right in the center.

I smile.

* * *

 _Mars Carrick – 18 Years Old_

 _District 2 Male_

* * *

The hatchets make their mark and smash into the wall, right into the hologram of a girl from district seven. They stick out like sore thumbs, waiting for their owner to release them. I happily accept and take them out as quickly as I threw them. I don't have time to rest, however, since a spear is already flying toward me. I dodge just in time as spear comes toward my face. It nicks my ear a little bit, but I barely notice and charge toward the holographic figure behind me.

The hologram doesn't even have time to run as I swipe my hatchets right into its face, and it dissolves. I smile when my next target is generated. A small boy with a number five on its back. I don't even hesitate. I'm on top of him and smashing my weapon into his head before the computer can produce a screaming sound for him.

Before I get the chance to stand, however, I feel a force so large that it knocks my body to the floor. Whatever it is, it's way heavier than me, because I can't move my arms. The computer must have generated another career, which I have practiced for years to take down. First, I bite hard onto their hand, causing fake blood to pour down their body. Then, I kick them in the chest, knocking them away from me and onto the floor. I get up and grip my hatchets tighter, watching the figure standing up just as quickly as it fell down. It's a simulated district one boy, who must be coded to be stronger than me.

I charge and fake an attack to the head with my first hatchet while I swipe my second hatchet into his side. The figure grunts, and attempts to punch me in the face, but he leaves his neck wide open. I take the opportunity to hold his arm and slice his throat. The hologram screams as it falls limply onto the floor.

I anticipate another attack, but nothing comes. The computer must be tired of watching me destroy holograms all day. Not like it really has a choice, since I requested this. This is my last chance to get into the games, and I'm not going to spend reaping day sitting on the couch waiting for the announcement to come, and I'm not going to go into the arena unprepared like my brother.

The thought of him brings bathes my body in anger. I never want to think of his dumb face again, but he is all I can think about today: when I woke up, when I ate breakfast, and even when I am training now. He can't escape my mind.

"Continue the session!" I shout at the computer, tightening my grip on the hatchets. I would do anything to keep those memories away, and training is the perfect distraction.

It takes a few seconds, but eventually, a hologram of a district twelve boy appears and chucks a fake axe at me. I dodge it and throw the hatchet right into their head. I train for a few more minutes, sweating and breathing heavily, if I wasn't ready for the games before, I am now.

Someone walks into the room. I can hear the door opening and closing from a mile away. With two people in the room, the computer automatically stops my training session until I reset the settings to include it. I go to start it back up again, but someone stops me.

"You okay there, son?" my father calls out.

I turn around quickly and see my father standing there, completely decked out in his peacekeeper uniform. He even has his helmet on, blocking his face from sight. I had expected him to be at the reaping preparing things along with the mayor and everyone else, so to see him here is a surprise.

"Dad," I say. "You're here; why aren't you at the reaping?"

My dad walks toward me, taking off his mask in the process. It's been so long since I've seen his face; he almost looks alien. His beard has grown quite a bit, his hair is messy and completely disorganized, and his face shows tons of scars, just like a peacekeeper would have. Sometimes, I'm even surprised that I take on some of his DNA.

My dad doesn't answer my question though at first, he just inspects the area, nodding in approval.

"I was," he finally answers. "But I wanted to see how my son was doing. Besides, planning does get a bit boring, needed to escape for a little while."

I nod in understanding and watch in silence as my father walks around the room, eyeing all of the weapons and marks that lie in the walls and on the floor

"It looks like you have certainly been busy," he says. "Tell me, what have you been doing?"

I look at the hatchets I have in my hand and put them quickly into the rack, arranging them in the row they once were in.

"Just training, dad; preparing for the games."

I hear him chuckle behind me.

"Good, very good. I'm glad you're still practicing."

As I pick up the weapons that fell to the ground during my little training time, small pride wells up in me. As long as Dad's proud of me, I'll never have to worry about disappointing him. Unless, I die in the games, of course, but I've spent my whole life making sure that he won't lose another son in the arena.

"You know I've always been practicing," I point out.

My father looks at me, with a deadly serious look in his eyes.

"I know that one can never be too prepared."

He stares at me, waiting for me to say yes, or to nod in his direction. But I don't, because I've already known this ever since my brother went into his games. I don't need him to tell me again. I'm not the one who needs to be reminded of it.

I don't answer his question, so we don't speak for a little while. I'm afraid that he's just going to walk out on me and leave me to train alone. But, he doesn't leave, he just stands there, watching me pick up the weapons. I don't know whether to be thankful or worried about that. He starts to help me out and pick up the weapons though, so that's a good sign. We don't speak to each other until we pick up every knife, spear, and axe from the floor and put them on their racks and shelves.

"You're going to volunteer this year, right?" my father asks.

"Of course," I say without hesitation. "I mean, I'll try. But you know Leroy is the official volunteer this year, right?"

He kind of chuckles, looking down and shaking his head in disappointment.

"I don't care if he's ten times stronger then you. Being the official volunteer doesn't mean anything in this district. You're going to volunteer this year. Do you understand?"

"You think I don't know that?" I yell back, my anger quickly overtaking me. "Of course, I'm going to volunteer this year! I will bring honor to the family name and nothing is going to stop me from getting into the games!"

I don't like being talked back at, or people correcting me on simple subjects. He should know that already. I expect my father to lose it, but instead, he just laughs and rubs his eyes. In a few seconds, my anger vanishes. I don't know why, but this somehow makes me laugh as well. I can't quite tell whether it's the face he's making, or the fact that he can't seem to control his laughter.

We would probably look weird if anyone was watching us, arguing, laughing over nothing. I would think we were nuts, but I don't care, because it's been such a long time since my father has laughed, especially in front of me.

We can't stop laughing, even when the computer's automated message tells us to leave.

* * *

 _Diana Slater – 17 Years Old_

 _District 2 Female_

* * *

The sky is full of clouds, and the streets grow dark as the sun is covered by them. It's not chilly though, in fact, it's quite warm, which is why I sweat like buckets as my family and I walk in silence to the square. My grey dress matches perfectly with the mood of the day, gloomy. There aren't a lot of people out right now, only a few families walk near us with their kids, but something tells me that everyone else is already at the square, since the games are so popular here.

No one says anything while we walk to the square, which I don't mind. It's not like I really have anything to talk about either. I'm surprised that Vulcan is keeping to himself though since he is usually the most talkative person in the whole family.

Besides my great-grandfather, of course, who my brother is named after. I guess it just runs in the family.

It doesn't take long before we do make it to the square, where I realize my instinct was right. The square is overflowing with people, thousands of head bob in the distance children run around in excitement, teenagers rush to get into the line, and parents cry tears of joy watching their children entering the reaping.

Even though the day is gloomy and hot, everyone is super excited. I can't say I'm so enthusiastic with everyone since I have to wait one more year to volunteer, but it is enjoyable seeing my mother actually talk to Ms. Aelita about something else other than my training techniques.

"Titan! Sala, I'm over here!" my brother calls out.

I look over and see some of my brothers' friends. Titan and Sala, who looks about sixteen, just like my brother. It looks like their talking to their parents; however, Titan instantly sees Vulcan and ignores his parents to run over and high five him. I have no interest to hear their conversation, so I go over to my parents and ask them if I can go into line.

"Of course, you can," my father says. "Just be careful and don't cause too much trouble."

"We'll be waiting for you when all of this is over, and then we can train once this is all over."

At least I got their approval. I hug them, we say goodbye, and I walk over to the huge line that continues to grow bigger. However, I guess I didn't consider other alternatives while waiting in line so soon. It's quite awkward to walk by so many people in my grey dress, it contrasts so much with all of the color surrounding this place. Blue balloons, red streamers, thousands of different colored dresses. It makes me feel weird, and completely out of place. It's not like anyone laughs at me or anything, but I still feel different than everyone else.

The line is agonizingly long, and it takes almost twenty minutes to get to the sign in area. The peacekeeper in the booth is huge, and his voice is equally powerful.

"Name, please," he says casually.

"Diana Slater," I answer.

He notes it down, asks me to bring out my hand, and draws out my blood very quickly. I thank him and walk over to my roped in area, filled with other seventeen-year-olds. All the girls are talking excitingly, each of them laughing, and yelling loudly. I don't say much, and just focus on the stage they had set up. Two huge bowls lie there, one for the girls and boys. Whoever gets chosen though, will probably be quickly replaced by a volunteer.

The mayor, the escort, and a couple of victors sit there and wait for everyone to file in. Again, it takes way longer than it should, but eventually, everyone gets inside. The mayor starts to read some stuff, but I don't pay attention. In fact, I pretty much zone out as the entire speech goes by. I don't pay attention again until they show a clip of the eighty-ninth hunger games, showing the district six male bashing the district two female's head with a huge rock. Everyone boos and curses at the screen, someone even throws an apple. I don't know whether or not they're yelling at the district six male for winning or the district two female for losing.

It isn't long until the escort finally comes up, and for the first time ever, the escort looks normal. I've seen some weird looking escorts in my lifetime, so I'm grateful that they provided district two with one that looks a little more human. The woman actually looks young, with no enhancements insight to make her appear like a monster. Her hair is natural and smooth, and she even has a pretty voice. We got very lucky getting her.

"Happy Hunger Games District Two!" she shouts happily.

Everyone cheers in response, including me.

"My name is Sasha Greer, your new escort for district two, and I could not be more excited to escort you guys this year! Now, I know it's been a long year, but now we can finally celebrate! I'm so excited, that I forgot what I was supposed to be doing… no really, I forgot, what am I doing?"

Everyone still cheers, even when the escort has to be reminded by the mayor twice of where she is to get the show rolling.

"Oh, right, I forgot, the reaping. Let's get started, shall we? As the rules imply, we will start with the ladies!"

Sasha waste no time, digging her hand straight at the bottom and pulling out a slip instantly. We barely have time to wonder who it is before she's calling out the name.

"Our lucky winner is Diana Slater! Please, come on up!"

I wait in anticipation for a volunteer, for all the girls to shout in alarm. But no one does. I look around in confusion before seeing their faces, all of them are looking away at me. No one even bothers to volunteer.

Completely surprised, I casually walk up to the stage. I look around at everyone, wondering if anyone is going to jump up at the last second, but no one does. A smug smile curls on my lips. No volunteers? This is more than I could hope for! I don't even have to wait another year. I can hear my brother cheering for me in the background, and my parents look like they're suppressing their excitement.

I was going to try and volunteer next year, but, the sooner the better I guess.

When I walk up the stage, I can't help but giggle, the escort looks completely traumatized, like she witnessed a catastrophic event just take place. The mayor himself looks just as confused. Half of the victors don't even seem impressed though, so I guess that's going to be a problem in the future if I try to talk to them.

The escort, once again, forgets where she is because of her shock, and needs the mayor to explain what just happened.

"Wow, um, I'm… What a surprise!" she shouts. "Let's give it up to Diana Slater, everyone!"

Everyone claps, causing me to grow more confused, but happier.

"Well, I guess we should get started on the male tribute for this year!"

I watch as Sasha digs her way through and picks up and random slip. As I watch her open it, something in my head tells me that the reaped boy won't be as lucky as me. I am instantly proven right because before Sasha even gets the chance to call out the name, a boy in the eighteen-year-old section lunges to volunteer.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

The boy doesn't wait, he runs right up to the stage and stands right beside me. Sasha and the mayor try to get him off, but one of the peacekeepers cheers him on.

With futile attempts to kick him off the stage and read the name, the escort is forced to let him stay on the stage.

"Well, what is your name, young man?"

The male smiles and turns toward the crowd.

"The name's Mars Carrick. And you can bet you want to keep your eyes on me in the arena because I'm coming straight home to victory."

Everyone cheers, but a few kids actually laugh at him, yelling something about a kid named Jupiter. I don't know what that means, but the boy's fists tighten. He looks way too angry about the kids, but before he can shout back at them, the mayor is taking the mike and starts talking.

As the mayor reads his second speech, I get a good look at my district partner and struggle to take my eyes off. The boy should be considered a man since he looks taller than my brother. He has a light brown stubble on his strong square chin, and somehow. Even with his huge muscular body, he looks calm and reserved, except for when he was about to murder those kids who were chanting the name Jupiter. I hate to admit it, but I kind of blush when he looks at me. I hope the camera doesn't catch that.

The mayor asks us to shake hands and we do. He has a firm grip.

"Good luck, Diana," he says politely, to my surprise.

At first, I hesitated to answer back. I don't know why, but I did. I didn't know who this guy was, and I didn't like talking to others so much in the first place. But this guy would actually be a pretty good ally in the career alliance, so I do eventually speak.

"You too, Mars," I answer right back.

"We'll both need it," he says as the anthem of Panem plays in the background.

I think about it for a while and realize just how right he is.

* * *

Mars Carrick – 18 Years Old

District 2 Male

* * *

My father leaves early to head to the reaping, leaving me with my mom to get dressed for the reaping. Being a peacekeeper and all, he has to make sure the crowd is under control. Not like they need to be controlled, everyone in district two seems to love the hunger games. Including me. So, I don't think he'll have too much trouble at his job.

But right now, I have to hurry up and get ready. I get dressed as quickly as I can, picking up a nice blood-red dress shirt, making sure the sleeves roll up to my elbows. I pick up some black slacks, making sure they actually fit me, and to finish it off, black socks with black dress shoes on my feet.

My mother waits in the doorway, wearing a light blue dress that ends at her knees. She stands sternly, waiting for me to finish my breakfast. I do, as quickly as I can anyway, and run out the door with her. The sky is cloudy, but the air is hot. Thankfully we don't live so far from the square, so the walk should be bearable.

A couple of other families walk by our side, but I don't pay any attention to them. Instead, I repeat training techniques in my head over and over again, to make sure I don't forget them. As well as bloodbath strategies, I can't forget them either.

It doesn't take long before we make it to the square, filled with many exciting shouts and screams. Everyone seems to be excited for the ninetieth year of the hunger games going on, and I can't blame them, it's something of a miracle that the games keep going on for this long. Something inside me hopes it doesn't ever stop.

There are a ton of people around us, everyone screaming a ton of different things all over the place.

"I love you, sweetie!"

"Good luck, Ulmer!"

"Titan, Sala, I'm over here!"

"Remember, Bela, always wait until the name is called!"

With so many different people surrounding the area, I don't even see the sign in line until I realize, I'm in it, all the way in the back. I curse myself for not getting ready faster, but what's done is done.

My mother silently cries and hugs me tightly. She's acting very emotional for me going into the square, but I still comfort her anyway.

"I'll be okay, mom," I reassure her, "I promise I'll restore our family name."

"I know, son," she manages to say, "I know you will. Just stay safe."

She gives me a big kiss and I run into the line. It takes a while for me to get to the front, and by the time I get my blood drawn, almost half of the people still aren't in their areas. I run over to the eighteen-year-old section anyway. It's completely full of anxious, angry boys who are eager to volunteer this year. I take my place and wait for the square to fill up. It takes a really long time, and at this point, the heat is too much to bear. Thankfully, everyone eventually gets into their places.

The mayor starts to give a speech about the history of Panem, about how the districts betrayed the capitol, and they were forced to bring the Hunger Games to a reality. After ninety years, here we are, celebrating the Hunger Games to this day. After the speech, they show a clip of the past games to see who the victor was, and we all look in disgust as the district six male, Axel Wren, smashes the district two female's head in with a rock. Everyone boos at him, including me.

Once that ordeal is over with, the escort, Sasha Greer, comes up and introduces herself to the crowd. She talks about how excited she is and how she can't wait to get started. Too, bad she instantly forgets where she is and has to be reminded by the mayor before she even starts the reaping.

"Oh, right, I forgot, the reaping. Let's get started, shall we? As the rules imply, we will start with the ladies!"

She runs over to the girl bowl and digs her hand right in there. She takes out a slip pretty quickly and reads off the name.

"Our lucky winner is Diana Slater! Please, come on up!"

I wait for the volunteers to start shouting to take the girls place, but surprisingly, no one says a word. All of us look around in confusion, even some of the victors are surprised. I wait for a few more seconds, but no girl volunteers. A girl runs out of the seventeen-year-old section, Diana, I assume, and makes her way up to the stage. She's probably as surprised as all of us at this point, but she's smiling as she takes her place on the stage.

Somehow, I lose all focus of the reaping and look at the girl in awe. The fact that no one else volunteered for her must mean that no one wanted to mess with her, or everyone else is an idiot. However, there's something special about the girl beside no one volunteering to take her place, the way her face looks, the way she stands, confidently and ready to take on anything, she stands out from everyone else.

Suddenly, I look back at the escort and realize she's about to call out the male name.

"The District Two male tribute i-"

"I VOLUNTEER!"

Screaming as loud as I can, I jump up to volunteer for the boy. Yeah, there was no way in hell I was missing this chance. I ran out of my area and up the stairs. I could see my dad in the back. I could tell it was him because he was the only peacekeeper cheering for me as I ran up the steps. The mayor and escort tried to stop me, but I was not going to miss this chance, my last moment to ever enter the games, and restore my families honor.

Eventually, they realized I wasn't giving up my spot, and let me pass.

Took them long enough.

Taking my place on the stage, I watch as the escort calms down from all the excitement and talks to me.

"Well, what is your name, young man?"

Smiling comes easy as I turn toward the crowd. I want to make sure they know who I am, and what I came to do.

"The name's Mars Carrick. And you can bet you want to keep your eyes on me in the arena because I'm coming straight home to victory."

A lot of people cheer, which fills me with pride, but then I hear laughter. They sting my ears instantly as I look around for the kids. There in the sixteen-year-old section, laughing their asses off.

"Mars chances of winning are just the same as Jupiter Carrick!" one kid screams.

BOOM! That name hits me square in the chest. I feel like I'm losing balance, struggling to stand up after the blow. My mind swirls in confusion as the disgrace enters my mind. I realize what I just did. It doesn't matter how I present myself, they'll always know me as the brother of Jupiter Carrick.

I want to scream, run up and pound the boys until they bleed, and I'm about to do so before the mayor pushes me back and begins to read the treaty of treason again and says how all of this is required. I don't pay much attention, I never was one for paying attention to our history, and I'm still fired up from that Jupiter comment. I will never be related to that piece of filth they called my brother. He once was, but not anymore.

It takes a long time for the awful memories to go away, and soon, my head is only filled with the training tactics I practiced this morning. I don't even remember what I was mad about, the only thing I am a little annoyed with now that the tributes have been chosen, I just wanted the games to start immediately. I knew just as much that everyone in district two did as well.

Just as the mayor was finishing the treaty of treason, I noticed Diana staring at me. She looked away quickly when I turned to face her. I didn't want to draw to conclusions instantly, but she seemed like a good ally, she looked certainly strong and healthy, seemed like a loyal enough career, and I could tell that the way she looked alone could get her enough sponsors to survive for a little while. Maybe I could ask her now?

We didn't get a chance to talk until the mayor asked us to shake hands, and by the time that happened, I decided that I didn't just want to ask her out of the blue to be in the career alliance during the beginning of the reaping, besides, I bet she was already thinking that about me, since I see her eyeing me. Maybe we can talk on the train.

"Good luck, Diana," I say to her as nicely as I could.

She doesn't speak at first, which worries me, maybe she knows about my brother? Thankfully, she finally answers me back.

"You too, Mars."

"We'll both need it," I say quickly.

We stand in silence as Panem's anthem plays. Looking at the mountains in the distance gives me a tinge of sadness, realizing I might be leaving my district forever.

You get one last look Mars, that's it…

I look at the shops in the square, filled with baked goods and clothing. I look at the houses further away, huge and full of colors. The square was enchanting and rich with life. This would be the last time I would ever see it, unless I won.

The anthem ended and before I knew it, we were being escorted to the justice building.

* * *

 **Yea! Another chapter before Sunday! I struggled a bit with this chapter to be honest, but I completed it, and I hope I did the two tributes well! I would love to thank call me calamity and go-for-Santa for giving me, Diana and Mars! I love them so much, and while I don't typically like writing careers, I still do my best to write them as best I can. Hope you enjoyed them!**

 **With two career districts out of the way, our next stop is district three! So far, I already have the district three male and female, so I'll get started on it as soon as possible. I might not be able to turn it in this Sunday, since one of my family members has to compete in a race this Thursday, so I won't be able to write anything then. Plus, I have to keep a close eye on my school work, and I have a root canal on Monday, so I'll be crying myself to sleep on Sunday. I'll still try and get it out though**

 **Also, I am literally done with the website for the story, (I love making them), and it took like, three hours for me to make it, (four if you count how much time I spent on a certain tribute picture). I just need the district 10 male, and the District 11 male, and then I'll be able to post It up.**

 **Other than that, there's not much else to talk about, and you can expect another reaping soon.**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire45 (and RainEStar3 for helping me!)**


	6. Chapter 6 - District 3 Reaping

_Xavier Oxford – 13 Years Old_

 _District 3 Male_

* * *

I regret not going to sleep last night, because now my eyes feel really heavy, and I don't think I can keep them open any longer. Glue is stuck all over my hands. No matter how hard I wash them in them in the sink, I still get a gooey, sticky feeling between my fingers. Not only that, but I've been sitting at my desk for the past four hours, only occasionally getting up to get some snacks, and because of that my legs don't function properly.

Did I forget to mention it was reaping day?

The fact that it was reaping day, in combination with me not getting any sleep and not having any feeling in my body beside stickiness, made me feel really grumpy and tired. I knew that the moment my mother found out I had stayed up, she was going to lose her marbles. Not like I had any choice since I had to get this thing done by today.

Luckily, the reaping starts at two, so I think I would have a bit of time to maybe take a quick nap, wake up, and head to the square with my mother and my little sister, Abby.

Oh, Abby, she's so lucky. Only nine years old right now, and she doesn't have to worry about being reaped for at least three more years. Sometimes, I find myself feeling jealous toward her, which I know I have no right to feel, but I just can't help myself. It's hard to resent people too old or young for the reaping. Especially right after your first year doing it.

I remember how panicked I felt while I was in the square when I was twelve. Watching the huge screens replay victories from past games, where children slaughtered each other to stay alive. I remember when they called the girl first, Cora, I think her name was. She had screamed and tried to run away. The peacekeepers had to drag her up to the stage that year. I remember my heart being struck with so much fear, I thought I would faint. I think a few kids in my section did.

Thankfully, I wasn't chosen that year. A fifteen-year-old named Arlo was. I remember sighing so loud after his name was called, and I could tell a lot of other kids did as well. Still, I couldn't help but look at him, and I could see the fear in his eyes, the sorrow, and hatred that comes with every kid who is forced to walk up the steps. I'm sure if I get chosen one day, I would probably have the same look in my eyes. I just hope that the day never comes.

Cora sadly died in the bloodbath that year, but Arlo actually made it quite far. All the way up to the final eight, before he died from drinking poisonous water. As much as I ached for his family and for him, I felt it was kind of a dumb way to go out, especially since he was able to avoid poisonous food for most of the game.

I sighed out loud, almost dropping one of my boat props for my project. It doesn't matter now, does it? Both of them are dead, Cora and Arlo. I'm still here, along with my sister and my mother. I guess I shouldn't think like that, especially since my own family qualifies for the same thing. Take my father, for instance. He's been dead for so long that I've never even known him, but I still had an emotional core with him, right? I should still care about him, even if he's dead. He was a part of my family.

Leaning back in my chair, I tap my finger slowly onto the messy desk. Still thinking about my father. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if my dad was still here. What would my life be like? Would he want me to study in mechanical engineering, or excel in science? How would he make me breakfast? Would he be overprotective, or let me do whatever I wanted?

I asked my mom these questions and more about him, but she never answered them. Not that I'm really surprised, she's the reason all traces of my dad are gone from the house. All his pictures have been thrown away, all his stuff had been sold to other people, I don't even know what my fathers' side of the family even looks like.

Maybe she's trying to protect me, from knowing what he was really like. But how am I supposed to set expectations for someone when I don't even know who they are?

That's why I needed to make this project work. Right on my desk. This was possibly my last chance to convince mom to tell me something about dad. She has grown more tired of me asking and has stopped answering my questions about him altogether. If this worked, maybe I could find at least one thing about him.

Which is why when I heard my mother in the hallway, calling me for breakfast, I left the poster board on my desk. I would show her after the reaping after was over. Maybe she would be calm, or a bit more panicked depending on what happened today, but I think I could make it work.

After quickly getting dressed in the plainest clothes I can find, a big white long-sleeved t-shirt that's a little bit too big for me, I head out to meet my mom. It was a little hard since my legs were still numb, but I eventually started to feel them again right before I made it into the dining room. She sits in the dining room table, sipping on what I presume to be coffee. I never was too fond of the drink, since I always enjoyed drinking tea instead. Still, I took a cup and sat right across from my mother.

She wore a light blue tunic, with a silver necklace that shined in the sunlight. Her blonde hair seemed to fall silently alongside her, even though she had it in a bun. My mothers' bags under her eyes were as clear and visible as ever. She might have stayed up as well last night.

We didn't say anything for a bit. Me and my mother kept staring out the window before she went to fetch the bread that she was making. It smelled really good, and as soon as she put the golden loaves on the table, I realized how starved I was for something to eat. I had to urge to eat it all immediately, but I cut a piece off and ate slowly. The bread made my drowsiness mood disappear, and my energy seemed to return to me quickly.

"This is really good, mom," I politely say to her, eating the last bit of my bread.

"Well, I had to prepare something special for the event," she responds, "and I figured that bread would be a real treat for today"

It definitely was, and I wanted to tell her that before her words started to come to me. Prepare for the event? Does that mean the reaping? It must be since we get next to no other holidays except the Hunger Games. I never considered the Hunger Games a holiday though. They were always a horrible thing to participate in and watch. I don't know how in the world the people over in The Capitol enjoy it, but they somehow do, and it sickens me.

But, again, I couldn't really do anything about it, and besides, I was as safe as I could get. I didn't take tessera, and I was thirteen. I had only two slips in the bowl. I want to tell my mother, Mom, I promise you I won't get reaped. The chances are too slim. And it was true, but I knew that there was still a possibility.

I just hope that the possibility never happens.

* * *

 _Lumi Cortez – 14 Years Old_

 _District 3 Female_

* * *

It was warm today…

That was my first thought when I woke up again, right under the big oak tree in my backyard. It was growing larger every day, and I can see birds chirping and landing on its branches. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and yawned. I vaguely remember how I got here, but I guess I was tired, so I decided to take a nap under the tree.

It was peaceful sleeping here though. Hearing the birds sing melodies with each other. The soft grass underneath providing me with comfort. The leaves protecting me from the harsh sun. It was a nice place to sit down and think about things. Sometimes I felt like the tree was my guardian, protecting me from the vile and bitter world I know as District Three, and the reaping.

I shuddered at the thought of it. Going to the reaping again, for my third time. People say you get used to it after a while, but it just seems that each year gets worse the more times you participate. I used to scream and cry at my parents to not let me go, but it was mandatory, no getting out of it. When I turned thirteen, I finally stopped crying about it, but I still hated going. Watching children screaming while being dragged up the steps. It was an awful thing to go through every year.

Not like I could do anything about it, I had to go. Knowing I couldn't stay here long under the protection of my peaceful wooden giant made me upset. Nonetheless, I knew the reaping would be starting soon, and I knew I would have the leave the comfort of the tree and into the real world again. Sitting up carefully, I tried to stand up, but suddenly felt a sharp pain in my backside. I managed to bite my tongue before I could scream. Then again, I might have bitten a little too hard because I felt pain inside my mouth and blood began to drip out.

At least I have no broken bones, I tried to tell myself.

It was hard standing up, but eventually, I was able to. My back hurt, but not as much as it did when I first tried to get up. My tongue wasn't pouring out blood like I thought, only tiny drips. I tried not to think much of it, maybe the pain would go away by the time I get to the square? I hope so. Carefully ignoring the pain though, I walked over to the sliding glass back doors of my home and entered inside. I made sure to get one last look at the oak tree and turned around.

It seemed like no one was in the kitchen or the living room. I struggled to resist the temptation to look through the cabinets and check if there was some candy for me to eat but decided against it and checked my parents' room first. No one was in the room however, it was empty, completely neat and clean like no one was there. They had a bunch of awards on their walls, filled with important stuff I bet. I couldn't read whatever was on it though, it's very hard to. Words jumble together whenever I look at them, twisting and knotting itself into a pile of who knows what.

My parents say I'm diagnosed with dyslexia. That's why it's so hard to read. At first, I had no idea what they were talking about, and when I asked my teacher what it was, a couple of the kids snickered, like I should have known what it was at that point.

Shaking my head, I turn away and start toward my room.

Since my parents weren't here at the moment, I quickly went to the cabinet and took a few peppermints. I popped one into my mouth and close my eyes, they seemed to melt onto my bloody tongue. My back was still throbbing by the time I ran into my room and jumped onto my soft bed. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep all over again, realizing how tired I still was. However, I knew I couldn't and would have to get ready for the reaping soon.

I had no idea what to wear though, kids always laughed at what I wore no matter what it was. I had tried to look formal, casual, mysterious, or even playful. Nothing ever worked. They laughed anyway.

I couldn't bear the voices, so I just pushed my head deeper into my pillow trying to block them out. I hated all those stupid kids. They were in the same stupid classroom as me ever since I was nine years old, I would expect at least some maturity as they grew older. They were all the same though, and it pisses me off.

I'm glad to at least have some friends though. I don't know if I could survive in this world without them. Cache, who was always there for me when times got tough, and my brother Technik, who seemed to know what I needed before I even knew what it was.

None of them were here, however. I didn't even know where Technik was. It was just me, all alone in the house, with no one to talk to. My back and tongue throbbing in pain as the reaping bell counted down.

I could tell today was going to be great…

* * *

 _Xavier Oxford – 13 Years Old_

 _District 3 Male_

* * *

I sipped on the coffee my mother provided me with on my way to the reaping. Two sugar cubes float on top of the black liquid. Caffeine buzzed through my body as I walked, popping my eyes wide open. The coffee didn't taste as bad as I thought, but I definitely wouldn't want to drink it again. There's something about it that I couldn't quite place but I didn't like.

A part of me is glad my mother gave me the coffee. I knew I couldn't stay up for the whole reaping, and the caffeine running through my body really did the trick. Then again, I still knew that my body would be completely wrecked after I was done with the reaping. Maybe it would crash before we went home, and then I'll really want to sleep for the rest of the day.

It didn't help that on top of all of this, the sun was boiling hot, with no breeze in sight. Even with my plain white t-shirt and shorts, I was sweating like crazy.

I wonder if the other districts are going through the same thing?

The heat didn't seem to affect everyone though. My sister Abby was right beside me, wearing her favorite pink dress. Her brown hair bobbed up and down in excitement as we walked. She acted like she had no idea what was happening. I know she's seen clips of the games, so why was she practically skipping down the sidewalk toward the square?

Whatever the reason was, I didn't really care. Besides, all I could hear was my mom voice at the moment, repeating again on what we would have to do the moment we got to the square.

"Remember, Xavier, to stay in line and don't talk to the other children," she started. "Once you get to the front a peacekeeper will ask your name and you are to reply politely to him. He'll quickly draw your blood and you will have to enter the thirteen-year-old section this time, not the twelve-year-old one."

My mother told me the exact thing last year, only then, I was way more terrified and more alert then I am now. I made sure to do everything she said when I got to the square and didn't even think about stepping out of line. Now that I was hearing it again, it just made me angry. Angry at the capitol for making my mother worry so much she would have to repeat the rules once again to me.

"It's okay, mom," I said. "I know what to do, you don't have to explain it to me again."

She seemed to be a bit reassured, but still nervous.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You do remember that once the reaping is over you have to- "

"Exit in an orderly fashion," I finished. "I know, mom. I promise you that you don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay."

Once I convinced her that I would be okay, she laid off me.

"Okay, I believe you," she said, smiling at me.

Mother doesn't smile much these days, so to see her okay made my negative emotions drift away. As long as mom was okay, I was too. Even if she hid secrets of my father from me.

"I want to know the rules again, mommy!" Abby shouted, bouncing up and down on her tippy toes. Looking like a bird ready to take flight. I grinned a bit, at least one of us actually cared to know what was going to happen today, even if Abby has been to the reaping a bunch of times and should have known by now.

So, my mother, who looked eager to tell Abby everything she couldn't do, explained everything to Abby as much as possible. Surprisingly, Abby actually seemed engaged with what she was saying, nodding her head up and down eagerly, and even repeating rules that mom had not yet described.

By the time we made it to the square, mom was still explaining how Abby was to never go anywhere else without her mother's permission during the reaping. Once we got to the square though, we found it fairly busy. Parents hugged their children tightly, friends wished each other good luck, and peacekeepers patrolled the area, keeping their guns trained on any rebellious figures in the area.

I tried to ignore the number of rebels being taken away by peacekeepers, but it was hard not to notice them. A lot of them seemed to be in their early twenties, but a few looked like teenagers, perhaps eighteen years old. I still couldn't believe people would have the balls to fight back after our horrific defeat when district three tried to rebel during the seventy-fifth hunger games.

I wasn't alive then of course, but I still remembered how my mother described the event. There was fire everywhere, sparks littering the sky, and gunfire in the distance. District ten, eight, and three attempted to take control of their homes again, but they were humiliating defeated. I'm just so glad that I wasn't born back then.

Ignoring the peacekeepers though, me, my mother, and Abby, all walked over to the line. Abby gave me a quick tight hug.

"Good luck, Xavier," my sister said.

"Thanks, I'll need it," I said right back to her, quickly hugging her as well.

My mother wouldn't let me off so easily, she kept hugging me and telling me she loved me and couldn't even let go of me without hugging me again. I had to remind her of rule number five, don't be late for the reaping before she finally let go of me.

"I love you, Xavier," she said. "Once this is over, we'll have a feast tonight."

"I can't wait for it," I said, maybe it would be a good opportunity to present my surprise for her.

Then again, maybe I should just keep the surprise until later. After all, it was reaping day. We might have to calm down a little for the event.

* * *

 _Lumi Cortez – 14 Years Old_

 _District 3 Female_

* * *

At first, I thought my parents would be late coming back from whatever they were doing. I didn't know exactly what they were doing, but they must have been doing something important, because they came back three minutes before the reaping started.

"Sorry we took so long," my mother said, quickly throwing off her jacket to replace it with a fine pale red dress. "We were having a meeting with your doctor about your condition."

"What did he say?" I ask, not really wanting to know.

"We'll talk about it when we get home," my father replied. "Right now put on your outfit, dear, we need to go now."

I rushed to my room and grabbed my mothers worn red frilly dress that she passed down to me. It looked rather comfy, but not good looking at all. It didn't matter though, as long as I didn't bump into any mean kids, it shouldn't stand out.

We were rushing out the door before my mother realized that we forgot my brother, Technik. I didn't know what she meant since I didn't see him at all in the house when I came in until I realized he was sleeping on the couch, under some blankets that I didn't notice. My father quickly woke him up, and it took Technik four seconds to realize what was going on before he got out of bed and threw on a worn white t-shirt some equally worn black slacks.

Rushing out the door, we probably ran our entire way to the square. Thank goodness our little house is so close to it, or we would be locked up on the spot if peacekeepers found us. My back wasn't hurting when we left the house, so running wasn't a problem. I wonder why it hurt in the first place. Maybe I'll never know, and a part of me wishes I don't.

By the time we got to the square, the line was dwindling to only a few people. Me and Technik said goodbye to our parents and ran into the line.

It didn't take very long before we made it to the front. But before my brother went inside, he quickly held my hand and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

"Good luck, Lumi," he said.

"You too, Technik," I replied.

I watched as he entered the booth to get his blood drawn. Once he entered, it was only me, two young girls, and one teenage boy waiting in line. I was next so once my brother left, it was my turn to get my blood drawn. I've been doing it for three years at this point, so I knew exactly what to do as they asked for my name and hold out my finger.

In what seemed like a matter of seconds, I was standing in the fourteen-year-old girl section, waiting for the names to be called. None of the other girls talked to me, and I didn't recognize a single one. However, when I turned to the left, I saw none other than Carlena Bright. My heart dropped when I saw her, and I could tell she noticed me too. I expected her to laugh out loud about my dress, how ugly my hair looks, how stupid my reading skills were, but she kept her mouth shut for the time being.

I wanted to run away and scream, but I somehow kept my feet planted and just focused on looking at the stage. Trying to ignore her and the laughing voices in my head.

First, the mayor came out, with a speech about the Hunger Games history. I didn't really understand what he was talking about, since I never studied the country's history, and didn't bother to since I couldn't read well. He listed off the past victors of District Three and introduced the mentors for this year's games. Two people named Etta and Digit came out, and the crowd cheered when they did. I didn't know who they were either, only knowing that they survived the games and outsmarted the other tributes.

Once that was done, the mayor introduced the escort, who sat up and thanked the mayor with a worn smile. The escort this year was a big man. He looked like he was not enjoying the day, considering that it was hot and miserable outside. His hair was balding, he wore a tight black suit, and he has a huge mustache.

He tapped on the microphone twice before starting, clearing his throat and introducing himself to the crowd.

"Hello, District Three citizens," he called out. "My name is Benji Acacia, and I am honored to welcome you to the ninetieth annual Hunger Games!"

Benji started to clap excitedly, but no one clapped along with him. He seemed to be a bit embarrassed, so he just plowed on through.

"I know you all are just as excited as I am to start this, so let's get on with it and call out the girls this year."

My heart stopped beating, or that what it felt like anyway. My head seemed to spin as the escort went over and plucked out a slip right on top of the pile of names. Who could it be? Not me certainly, it could never be-

"Will Lumi Cortez please come up to the stage?"

Me…

Time seemed to stop, and for one awful moment, I thought I was going to pass out. I didn't though and did something much worse. I started to cry. I started to cry out in public, with everyone watching me, including Charlena Bright. I couldn't stop the tears once they came out, and I could tell that the peacekeepers were coming for me. I was going to be like that girl from last year. What was her name? I think her name was Cora. I was going to be like her, kicking and screaming all the way up to the stage.

"You heard him, Lumi," Charlena shouted. "Go on up to the stage! Or did you suddenly become deaf!?"

Overflowing emoting of anger went inside me. I wanted to hurt Charlena so bad that she could never walk again. I wanted her to go to school the next morning crying about how her head hurt because of the girl tribute of district three. I was going to make that happen, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but cry and wait for the sweet release of death.

The peacekeepers eventually had to drag me to the stage. I didn't struggle like Cora did last year, I just let them take me. My eyes were blurry, so I couldn't see my parents in the back of the square, but I did catch a glimpse of my brother, on the verge of crying himself. I wanted to run up and hug him and tell him everything would be all right, but how could I do that when I couldn't even calm myself down.

Just let them kill me, I thought, I'm just a stupid girl from District Three who can't do anything except get her bones broken and be put in the lowest classes. It's not worth it to live if I just make my family upset every day.

The peacekeepers dropped me onto the stage right alongside the escort. He smiled and tried to ask me a few questions, but I didn't answer. It all felt so artificial to me. How could anyone be enjoying this right now? Have we lost so much humanity that we are okay with letting children be slaughtered?

"Let's hear it for our District Three female tribute, Lumi Cortez!" the escort shouted.

Not everyone clapped, and not anyone who did clap seemed to enjoy doing it. I could only here a few people clap excitedly, cheering for my death. I looked up to see it was Charlena and a few other kids from my classroom. All of them so excited to see me die…

Sometimes, when I have a really bad day, like when Charlena pushes me in the hallway, or when my grades drop so low that even my parents I worried for me. I run all the way home and cry myself out. All the way until dinner, when I have no more tears to empty. Right now, though, I don't think the tears will ever stop.

And they don't, up until there calling the district three male. That's when I look up to see my partner who will be joining me in this hell.

"Xavier Oxford is the district three male tribute! Please, come up to the stage."

He doesn't come out yet. He's frozen too, just like me. Like a deer freezing in its tracks once it hears something suspicious in the woods. I can hear a little girl screaming in the background for him. It stings my heart every time the girl calls his name.

Eventually, the boy steps out of his section and walks to the stage. The boy is thirteen years old, a year younger then me and he's handling the situation better than I am. Tears are pouring out of his eyes as well, but he doesn't seem to be having a mental breakdown like me. He actually makes it up to the stage before collapsing right beside me sobbing. The escort tries to pick us up, but we don't move.

"Uhm, here are your tributes for district three! Lumi Cortez and Xavier Oxford!"

The escort seems to want to get this over with as fast as possible, as he pulls me and Xavier off the ground roughly and shoves us aside. He's already written us off. I don't blame him really. We must look pathetic, crying on the stage for our imminent death. The mayor is talking, but I don't hear a word he says until he asks us to shake hands. We both turn toward each other, but I can't shake his hand. I can't do it knowing I'll have to kill him soon in the arena, assuming he doesn't kill me first.

It's a long time before Xavier reaches out and has to shake my hand instead. I can see in his face that's he's trying really hard to hold back tears, but he's failing miserably. Everyone doesn't say a word, and frankly, I don't want to either. I don't know what to say to him, because I don't have anything else to say.

When the anthem starts, we still don't let go. Our hands are still in the shaking motion when everyone is forced to clap. At first, I don't think anything bad is going to happen. And then I hear some people scream vicious things at the mayor, and escort, and the capitol.

Knowing what's about to happen, I take Xavier's hands, and before the peacekeepers can lead us in, we run into the justice building.

We ignore the shots being fired outside.

* * *

 **I don't know whether I did this chapter too blandly, or too over the top. Leave your thoughts in the reviews so I know which one I can feel guilty about. Thank you so much Galaxy842 for Lumi and thank you so much luluthefox for Xavier. I had a blast writing these two and I can't want to explore them more. Hope I wrote them good enough!**

 **Now onto district four. I have every single tribute except for the district ten male, which is reserved for the time being. If the author doesn't submit the tribute in time, I will open up the slot for anyone who wants to. I can't finish the website without him. Other then that though, almost all the districts are full and ready to be reaped.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you in district four.**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire45 (and RainEStar3 for helping me edit this!)**

 **(P.S: Now I see why people don't do the reaping's, lol.)**


	7. Chapter 7 - District 4 Reaping

_Velura Stoaks - 17 Years Old_

 _District 4 Female_

* * *

All of the lights in the kitchen were turned off, allowing the sun's natural light to shine through the windows to give the place a warming presence. A few bowls were placed out on the dining room table, but nothing was in any of them. Everything was quiet, and the only sound I could hear was the occasional chirping of a bird outside. From the rapid high-pitched sound, I determined it must have been a sparrow.

No one else was up beside me. I passed my parents' room and saw them both dead asleep. They'll soon wake up though and prepare everything that will be needed for today. I already picked out my clothes for the reaping, so my mother and father will set out the food, make the plans to celebrate today, and invite as many people as possible for a feast to celebrate the Hunger Games.

Personally, I wish my parents didn't do that. It's like they know everyone in the neighborhood when they really don't. It's super uncomfortable being around people you don't know and don't care about. The only person I'm okay with coming over to my house is Kyla, and that's because she wants to study or discuss the latest trend going on at school so we can both complain about how dumb it is.

Today, though, wasn't the time to share study notes, plan for parties, and complain about how dumb dyed hair is. It was reaping day, which meant everyone was fast asleep, trying to conserve whatever energy they had left until the clock struck two. Personally, I think the reaping should start at five or four. At least to give families enough time to prepare for their child inevitable fates in the poorer districts, and to also give the careers a lot more training time before the reaping starts, but what's done is done I guess.

Making sure I didn't make too much noise, I grabbed one of my staffs resting in the hallway that I use for practice. Even though I have one more year ahead of me, I might as well get as much practice as I can before the reaping starts anyway. Before I leave the house, I make a quick note and put it on the wooden dining room table, explaining where I was and how long I would be gone. My parents wouldn't mind if I stayed out for a bit. They already know I'm responsible enough to not get myself in trouble. I carefully put my reaping clothes into my bag, making sure they wouldn't get wrinkled, put on my coat, and set off outside.

It was warm today, but the cool sea breeze made me shiver anyway. The blue sky had turned into a light grey in the past few days, and the sun that was once shining so brightly was struggling to break through the clouds. Any other person would call the weather miserable, but I didn't mind it too much.

At first, I figure I should go to Kyla's house since she lets me use her huge backyard as a quiet training space I can practice in, but then I remembered that no one in their right mind would be up this early, especially Kyla who tends to be a heavy sleeper anyway. So, I decided on the next best option, the beach. With a plan set in my mind, I take off.

Walking toward the beach was uneventful, however. No one else was up and greeting the glum day outside, which was understandable. It was seven, after all, no one would really be up this early unless they wanted to spend as much time of the day as possible. The only type of thing I saw alive outside were birds flying all over the dirty sky. It was hard to see them, but they looked like they were enjoying the weather.

It didn't take long before I could eventually see the sparkling waves of the Atlantic Ocean in the distance. I could already taste the salty air coming from that direction. Seeing my destination closer than I expected, I ran the rest of the way until my shoes hit the sand. I breathed in deeply the moment I reached the shoreline, the air entering my body and traveling to my lungs. The sounds of the waves crashing against rock had made my other senses start to fade away as I listened closely to the water.

Out on the ocean, boats were moving slowly across the sea. Probably catching fish and other creatures for District Four's finest to dine on. The sound of their horns didn't bother me in the slightest, even the sound of waves crashing onto the rocks didn't bother me either. It was certainly better than my school, where I am forced to traverse the loud crowded hallways every day.

No one was around to see my pick up my staff and start to play around with it. It sailed through the air and struck down violently. I rushed around to avoid imaginary spears thrown right at me by some powerful force. I jumped off the rocks and crashed into the ground to take down a lion mutt.

It might have been more preferable to train in the academy, where there were actual holograms and dummies to use and fight against, but I never liked the place. Too many crazy kids shouting in excitement whenever they hit a bullseye mark on a target. I preferred to train by myself, and occasionally with my mother since she trained me most of the time.

It was hard to traverse around in the sand, and sometimes I would lose balance and almost fall into the water, but I enjoyed training there still. I didn't go to the beach often, so it was a nice treat to actually be there. Maybe Kyla and I could come here sometimes in order to study together. We could be hearing the seagulls overhead, watching the boats sail along the water, all while studying geometry in our textbooks.

That would be a nice treat.

* * *

 _Sauger Cood - 18 Years Old_

 _District 4 Male_

* * *

It's cloudy today, but somehow the air feels hot. The world around me gloomy and grey, and all I can think about while I stand at the corner of the street is how warm it is. My shirt clings onto my body like claws digging into flesh as I wait for my two friends to show up. A part of me just wants to give up on training with my friends and stay at home with my mother and father before the reaping starts, but another part of me tells that part to shut up.

Besides, I need all the help I can get before the reaping starts. You can never prepare too much, that's what my friend Blenny says every time he throws a spear at a dummy and punctures it from seventeen yards away.

The wait grows longer and the air gets hotter as I stand on the corner of the street. At one point I almost decided to go home but force myself to stand there, waiting patiently for my friends. I'm half tempted to just go to the academy myself, but by the time I'm deciding to leave, I see them running down the street. Blenny gripping onto Rudd shirt like a fisherman reeling in a wild fish.

"Sorry we're late," Blenny says, "If it wasn't for this jackass we would have gotten here on time."

Blenny glares harshly at Rudd, who just shrugs in response.

"I just had to take a leak, no big deal, dude," Rudd replied.

"If by take a leak meant you stopped every five seconds to flirt with some hot chick, then yes, you did just so happen to take a leak," Blenny hissed through his teeth.

It was hard to resist to urge to roll my eyes at them since it was such a stupid reason to be late for something related to the reaping. Blenny obviously was probably madder then annoyed at Rudd since I know he loves to train, and anything keeping him from training he would usually get mad at.

"Come on," I say while walking away from them, "we should get to the academy, I would kill for some air condition."

"You're telling me," Rudd says running up beside me, "It's hotter than black tar out here."

We continued complaining about the state of the weather while we walked. By the time me and my friends get over to the academy, I realized just how close to boiling hot we were. We practically crawled into the academy as cold air blasted into our faces. Rudd sighed in relief as Blenny just breathed in deeply.

Once we cooled off, I began to realize that the academy was open early today, and quite a lot of people have shown up. I recognize a few of them like Abigail who was practicing with the spears, and Kenn training over at the targeting range, but besides them, there really isn't anyone else. Not even Dace bothered to show up. I wonder where he was.

"It's packed today," Blenny says beside me, "All the stations are full too! How the hell am I going to practice with the swords if the station is already full?"

Rudd snickers behind me.

"You can go over and try knot tying if you'd like." He replies, "That station is completely empty."

Blenny shoots Rudd an angry look, which I think was meant to intimidate him, but it only makes Rudd laugh in his face. However, what Blenny says is true, almost all of the stations are full. District four might be considered a semi-career district in the publics eyes, but they don't really know how seriously kids here treat the hunger games. There were tons of teens in each station, trying to get in any last-minute training time they could.

"We should split up and try to cover as many stations as we can," I suggest.

"Good idea," Rudd says, "I'll go over to the knife throwing section, my skills are a little rusty."

I turned over to Blenny to ask what he was going to do, only to watch as he booked his way over to the swords station that currently had about ten other kids there.

At least he was enthusiastic about it.

Me and Rudd then went our separate ways to train in our different stations. I decided to try out the spears since I could use a little bit of a warm-up on them, and unsurprisingly, a lot of kids were there at the moment, opting to train with spears instead knives and swords instead. Multiple kids were training together while other practiced alone.

Even though the station was full, there were a few free spots available. I quickly ran over to them before anyone else could take them.

Abigail, who I've never spoken to before other than to ask for a pencil in class, gave me a quick nod before going back to throwing spears. The other kids there didn't even acknowledge my presence as they continued to practice with their weapons. Not that I cared if they noticed me or not anyway. I search around the racks to find a weapon and pick up a reasonably long and sharp spear and focus my attention to the target. The dummy stands there silently, with multiple holes in its torso and head from other kids practicing on it.

I grip onto the spear tightly, back up a couple of paces, and then run forward and throw it as hard as I can. I watch as the spear blazes toward the dummies neck. The head snaps back once the spear contacts it. I could almost hear the sickening thud that the dummy makes as it falls onto the floor.

I try to imagine for a second that the dummy is Roach. The thought of his blood on the silver spear brings me some joy for a quick moment. Then I run over to retrieve the darn thing before going back to practice with it again.

* * *

 _Velura Stoakes – 17 Years Old_

 _District 4 Female_

* * *

Everyone in the seventeen-year-old section can't stop chatting with one another. Their confusing slur of words and babble mixed to form a chorus of unintelligible noise around me. I could only hear bits and pieces of conversations if I tried really hard to pay attention to them. Most people were talking about the games, school work they didn't finish, or personal stuff I had no knowledge about. One girl was talking about getting a root canal later in the week, and she started to cry to her best friend about it.

Maybe I was weird for trying to listen in, but there was nothing else to do while waiting patiently for the reaping to start. Most kids just stood there, while others tried to engage in conversation with other people. I've seen other kids bring in toys to try and occupy themselves, but they were always confiscated the moment a peacekeeper saw one. Thankfully, that only happens in the twelve-year-old sections where the kids have no idea what's going on around them.

As the wait grew longer, the children slowly stopped talking. Either because of a deep fear of getting in trouble once the reaping started or perhaps they just didn't have anything to talk about anymore. The air grew warmer but didn't boil my body, which felt nice. A nice breeze entered the square, allowing my skin to cool down from the extreme heat I felt a few hours ago.

The longer it took for the kids to come in, the more bored and tired I got. At the point, I wondered if it was a good idea for me and my family to arrive so early. My parents thought it was a good idea, while I tried to consider other possibilities. However, it was already decided and we arrived at the square thirty minutes earlier than when we needed to.

I decided to focus on the stage to keep my mind off things. The two big bowls that held everyone's names sat silently on their pedestals with thousands of tiny slips in them. In their chairs right behind the bowls were the escort, mayor, and two victors from district four that were chosen to mentor this year.

I could tell everyone was looking at Vance, the victor of the eighty-fifth hunger games. He was covered in bruises, and even though he was trying to hide it, I could tell it hurt when he tried to move his body. I wonder what he did to get himself like that.

The other victor besides Vance was Jolie Rowan, who sat confidently in her chair, looking down at all of us. She didn't look like much at first, especially to her counterpart Vance, but she still was one to remember thanks to the unique way she was able to win her games. I don't think anyone could forget how she used the boulder of one of the mountain tops to crush the district six boy, earning her the victory.

To think that just a few years ago they were considered tributes, just kids who had just as little of a chance of survival as every other outlier district. Now here they were, survivors of a brutal and intense arena that they left unscathed.

Okay, maybe not unscathed but alive at least.

After what feels like hours, everyone finally arrives and goes to their sections. As soon as everyone is accounted for, the mayor steps up and delivers her yearly speech about the country Panem. Detailing how the country fell to ruin during the dark days due to the districts, only for the capitol to beat them all and start the Hunger Games as a yearly punishment for their wrongdoings.

She then introduces the victors that will mentor the tributes this year, which of course are Vance and Jolie. I notice that everyone cheers loudly when Vance stands, and watch as he humbly accepts their applause. It must kill him to be moving so much.

Finally, the escort appears. He walks formally over to the mic and begins speaking.

"Greetings, District Four," he says calmly. "My name is Arlemo Loden, your escort for this year. I know you've all been waiting for a long time for this, so let's start right away."

Without hesitation, Arlemo walks over to the girl's bowl and begins digging for a slip. All of the girls hold their breaths. Except me, I just watch as he pulls out a slip, walks back over to the microphone, and unfolds it.

"Velura Stoakes is our lucky girl for District Four," he calls out. "Will you please come up to the stage?"

At first, I don't know how to react until a quiet chuckle escapes my lips. Is this really happening? I'm going to be entering the games right now? This early?

Perfect.

I casually stroll out of my section and make my way toward the stage. Everyone starts to clap for me as I climb the steps and take my place. I hear my parents cheer widely for me in excitement. The victors don't react, except Vance who gives me a thumbs up. The mayor claps along with the audience, and the escort just gives an eye roll.

No one volunteers, even when the escort asks for any. Being reaped and not volunteering might hurt me in terms of sponsors, but for the moment, I try and forget the games exist as everyone claps for me. For a moment, joy actually runs through my body. I was going into the arena. After so many years of waiting, I was finally going in.

"Now let's move on with the boys," the escort announces, clearly tired and wanting to get through with this.

He quickly walks over to the boy's bowl, plucks a name out, and starts to read it.

"Marco Dementa is our lucky boy for District Four," Arlemo says quickly.

Before Marco can get out of his section, a boy raises his hand and shouts as loud as he can.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

I watch as the boy runs out of his section before anyone can stop him and runs up to the stage. He quickly takes his place beside me before any peacekeeper can stop him.

"Ah, we have a volunteer this year," Arlemo says, "Tell us, what is your name, young man?"

The boy smirked and looked out into the crowd, with a certain degree of satisfaction in his eyes.

"My name is Sauger Cood," he yells into the mic. "Remember the name well."

I hear someone shouting in the eighteen-year-old section, two boys to be exact. They both cheer and yell out supporting words to the boy. This causes and chain reaction and hundreds of the kids start clapping for him.

Somehow this rubs me the wrong way.

Once the mayor dies down the cheering, she starts another speech about the reason all of this is required. I don't pay attention and eye my district partner. He's way taller than me and was sturdily built and muscular. His brown hair contrasted way too much with my blonde hair. There was something off about the boy, but I couldn't quite place it. It had something to do with his eyes.

I never got to find out what made me so worried though, because soon the anthem of Panem was playing, and Sauger and I were shaking hands.

"See you in there," he says simply.

I try to find some deeper meaning in the words. Does he mean in the arena? Where he'll kill me if I'm not in the career alliance? I'm definitely not the fittest person in the world, but they still can't count me out right? Maybe he means the train station, where will definitely meet again and the cameras will capture us. No matter how hard I try to think, I can't find any meaning in the words. So, I quickly determine he just means good luck.

"You too," I say back.

And then that was it, we were escorted into the justice building and the doors close behind us.

* * *

 _Sauger Cood – 18 Years Old_

 _District 4 Male_

* * *

"Name, please," the peacekeeper asked.

"Sauger Cood," I reply quickly.

He nods, writes something down in his clipboard, and then gestures for my hand. I hold my hand and a feel a sharp pain go through as the blood is drawn. All I can think about while this process is happening is Roach. Where the hell was the asshole? Probably smirking in the eighteen-year-old section as the children file in. I'll make sure that smirk is slapped right off his face.

Once the peacekeeper is done with the whole thing, he gestures for me to leave. Without thanking him, I quickly run over to my eighteen-year-old section with all the other teenagers. I don't see Roach, but I see Blenny only six kids away from me. He's sweating like a rushing river, even though the hot air is no longer present.

Rudd is nowhere to be found, and I couldn't see Koy in the female sections either. They must be deeper into the crowd somewhere. I have no idea where Roach is.

I feel my anger growing, and my blood starts to boil. I can't believe I still keep thinking about him. Whenever we train, or I'm sleeping, and even in my dreams, he's in my head. I can't stop thinking about him.

I don't know how long it takes, but soon, all of the areas are filled and the mayor stands up to give her speech about Panem. I try to pay attention, but it puts me to sleep real fast trying to keep all of the facts in my head. After she's done talking about the Hunger Games, she presents the victors, who quickly rise to show they are present.

The escort then steps up and quickly introduces himself as Arlemo. He then goes to the girl's bowl and picks out a slip before opening it. I don't even have time to wonder if it's Koy before the name is called.

"Velura Stoakes is our lucky girl for district four," he calls out, "Will you please come up to the stage."

I look over to the girl's side and watch Velura walk calmly to the stage. Her golden blonde hair flies silently behind her as she takes to the steps and places herself on the stage. Everyone claps for her, even though she didn't do anything all the spectacular, just walked up and entered the games.

None of the girl's volunteer, which I find strange but don't question that deeply. I don't know why Koy didn't volunteer, but maybe she is just waiting for when she turns eighteen. I know most kids do in the career district.

"Now let's move on with the boys," the escort says.

As the escort walks over to the bowl and plucks a slip out, anger seeps through my body again. I try to calm down, but memories flash back to me as quick as fish darting through the water. Just knowing that Roach will volunteer this year is unbearable, and I won't let that happen.

So, when Marco starts walking out of his area, I shoot my hand up into the air and shout as loud as I can.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

I don't hesitate, I run out of my section and up onto the steps. I can hear my friends Blenny and Rudd cheering on for me as I take my place next to Velura on the stage. No one tries to stop me on my way.

"Ah, we have a volunteer this year," Arlemo says, "Tell us, what is your name, young man?"

I don't pay much attention to Arlemo as I peer into the crowd to catch a glimpse of everyone I'm leaving behind. Rudd looks really excited for me, as he claps widely. Blenny gives me a slow clap, but the anger on his face shows easily. I don't see Koy anywhere, but I do catch a glimpse of Roach.

His face brings satisfaction to me, contorted in anger and confusion. Sweat dripping at an alarming rate, looking like a rushing river. His bright red face reminds me of a volcano ready to explode. If only Koy could see this.

It's perfect.

"My name is Sauger Cood," I yell. "Remember the name well."

Everyone cheers for me once I'm done speaking. It feels good to see everyone so excited for me. People I don't even know cheering for me to win. I guess there also cheering for Velura, but it's the thought that counts.

The mayor calms everyone down and goes on with her second speech before the anthem of Panem plays. Once it's done, Velura and I shake hands with one another. That's when I get a good look at the girl.

She's obviously shorter than me, and kind of thin too, except I do notice some muscle under her skin. There really isn't much about her except her green eyes and golden blonde hair that flows in the breeze. She doesn't seem weak, but she may not be a strong contender in the actual arena.

Before the peacekeepers walk us to the justice building though, I say some parting words to her.

"See you in there," I say casually.

She takes a while to say anything back, eyeing me carefully. I don't know what that means.

"You too," she eventually says back.

Then, were escorted by the peacekeepers into the justice building, and the doors close behind us.

* * *

This chapter should not have taken three weeks to publish. I'm so sorry for missing the due date for this, but I had to focus on school since the quarter is almost over, and me and my brother were doing a lot of things together so I had to take some time off to hang out with him. Either way, it doesn't matter, the chapter is out and I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you so much hadesx and 20 for Velura and Sauger. I know I didn't write them at their best here, but I promise they'll get better as the story progresses!

Next up is the electrifying district 5. I've already written the chapter halfway through, so it should be up by Sunday, if I can get my act together.

Also, guess what. I FINISHED THE WEBSITE! It's published now and you can all see the upcoming tributes, the link will be provided below. (Please do a blog review, you have no idea how long it took for me to make this website. :C)

ht(t)ps : / / into - darkness . weebly . com (Don't include the parentheses around the T)

(If the link doesn't appear, PM me and i'll give it to you.)

Take Care

\- CandleFire45


	8. Chapter 8 - District 5 Reaping

_Spark Tarentina – 15 Years Old_

 _District 5 Male_

* * *

I surge forward as my feet pound on the concrete, practically flying past the shops that lined the district square. Sweat pours down my body, causing my clothes to stick tightly onto my skin. My heart beats faster than it ever had before. I barely stop to catch my breath or relax in any way. I probably would die if the temperature was over ninety degrees. Thank god it was cold out.

Changing direction quickly, I fly by Mr. Charleston's bakery and ran down the alleyway. It's smelly and crusty back there. The scent drove itself up my nose even as I ran through it in a couple of seconds. I jumped over boxes and dodged pipes that protruded from nearby buildings. I made quite the racket as I raced by, causing multiple shopkeepers to come out and yell at me. It didn't matter. All I cared about was getting to the secret meeting spot before any of the others did.

I emerged from the ally to find myself staring at a few trees, concealing behind them a large glade. It was an easy jog the rest of the way there, only having to dodge a few branches before I entered the turf. It was a huge place, surrounded by trees, and filled to the brim with tall grass that probably concealed snakes, bugs, anything else that could bite you. A huge oak tree was centered in the middle of the area, casting an ominous shadow whenever the sun rested over it.

I don't know why the adults haven't decided to bulldoze this place though; it would be a great spot for another stupid factory they always need. The capitol can never get enough electricity, which is why they keep building more factories and employing more workers every year. Seems like the perfect spot to make like five of them.

Whatever the reason is, they haven't decided to get rid of this place yet. Which is good, because I don't think I can survive one week without coming here to talk with my friends about some personal problem of mine. We could always go to each other's houses, but there such long distances away, plus their place are usually filled with their loud and annoying brothers and sisters.

I can relate.

Carefully trying not to disturb any animal creeping in the grass, I make my way over to the huge tree. There appears to be no one there, and for a moment I think I beat them. Then my heart practically drops as I watch Vicky appear out of the shadows. She smirks at the sight of me, all sweaty and tied, gasping for breath like a lunatic. She doesn't even look like she broke a sweat.

"What took you so long!" Vicky shouts, "It's been so boring waiting around for you two here."

I laugh, although it's sort of a whispery laugh as I try to suck down air.

"I… was busy," I cough out, "trying to beat you to it."

"Well, at least you beat Oliver."

Vicky smiles as she points behind me. I look over shakily to find Oliver emerging from the trees, gasping for air, sweat pouring down his tired face. The moment he gets to the tree he collapses on top of me for support.

"Why," Oliver gasped, "did no… one tell me… we were meeting here!"

Vicky laughs and I manage to muster a smile before leaning against the huge oak tree to catch my breath.

"Silly Oliver," Vicky says, "we always come here to chat. Why were you so late?"

"Because... a certain someone left a note… at my doorstep saying we were meeting at the square instead!"

I don't know why it's funny to me, but a smile somehow appears on my face and I start to laugh. Vicky joins me quickly, and soon, even Oliver begins to shake his head, trying to use his huge brown curls to block the smirk appearing on his face.

A cool relaxing breeze enters the turf, causing grass to swiftly move from side to side. The leaves above us fall, then glide away with the wind, being carried off to unknown territory. Sunlight no longer has an effect on us as the wind blocks any oncoming heat our way. Air returns slowly to my lungs, and the wind cools down my boiling hot skin. I lay back against the bark and breath in the clean air around me.

Oliver eventually sits down and continues to complain to Vicky about her tricking him. Vicky just smiles and responds in a joking manner.

"Do you know how far I had to run to get here? My house is like 4 miles away from the square!"

"Of course I know, that's why I did it."

"I had to sprint all the way there to find no one! I ran in my reaping clothes too," Oliver says out of the blue, "my mother paid good money for these.

A stinging pain erupts in my heart. I completely forgot about the reaping.

"Today's the reaping?" I ask nervously, "I completely forgot about it with everything that's happened this year."

Oliver looks at me slowly, completely dumbfounded at my incompetence. Vicky however doesn't seem to bothered by it at all, instead opting to pluck the petals of a daisy instead.

"How could you forget about the reaping Spark?"

I shrugged in response.

"I don't know, I got carried away with other things I guess."

"You got carried away? With what exactly?"

"Hanging out with you two," I say calmly, "and besides, It's not like it matters, I know now."

Oliver says nothing after that, maybe he's tired of talking and wants to rest. I agree and decide to pass the time by watching the power plants in the distance, producing titan sized clouds speeding toward the sky. The place is so huge that I sometimes wonder about the number of people in there to run that thing.

My friends talk cheerfully beside me now, but their voices slowly dim as other things evade my mind. It's been so long since I've thought about the Hunger Games and it's reaping. I don't think I really cared that much about them, or maybe I did but never thought about it or dwelled on it too much.

Now, for some reason, the Reaping is all I can think about.

* * *

 _Shock Tarentina – 15 Years Old_

 _District 5 Female_

* * *

It was dark, possibly due to the dark shutters were drawn tightly in my room. It didn't matter, I can see just fine as I work on perfecting the catapults range. Tweaking and tinkering with the contraption was easy, and I can see that I accomplished my goal by peering through the scope the machine provided. With the calculations I made, it should be able to hit the little target I put up one hundred percent of the time. After making sure everything was set up, I take a step back to observe my work.

Everything looks perfect, to an average person anyway. However, I can see the problems: the loosened screws, the mess of wires around the batteries, and the lack of an electrical transmitter. It is definitely frustrating to look at after spending two stressful months putting it together. Thankfully, I do have all the tools and parts necessary to fix all of this before the Reaping starts, so I should think carefully and get one thing done at a time.

The first thing I decide to fix are the bolts. They wouldn't stay in place on the catapult, so I quickly take a wrench and tighten them. It takes a while, especially with my noodle-like arms, but after hearing the satisfying click of the bolt getting into place, I know I got it in tight.

I used to have trouble putting together the elaborate experiments like this one. I lacked the necessary tools I use now, and the materials I needed weren't available back then. Most of the time, I just scavenged whatever was around the house to use for parts, but I now realize how dumb that sounded, how dumb I used to be. None of the components I found back then would have ever helped me completed the project I'm doing now.

For example, my first test of the project was a complete and utter failure. The electrical current wasn't as strong as I wanted it to be since the materials I used at the time didn't conduct electricity. I don't know what I was thinking of trying to use titanium to conduct electricity, I definitely should have used copper, or silver instead. It wasn't as hard to obtain as I thought it did, just grab your mother's nearest silver bracelet and you should be set.

That was what I was doing now in fact, taking my mother old silver bracelet and twisting it around until it gave me a respectable little wire. Placing it near the battery, I organized the cords to their places and rushed over to the glass bowl that stood in the centerpiece of it all. I haven't yet turned it on, but in my mind, I could already see the electrifying sparks appearing, the light blue wave of power coursing inside the bowl.

I don't like to think of myself as a mad scientist, but I did giggle just a tiny bit at the thought of the experiment finally working after so many attempts. Quickly, I rushed to put on my goggles and straightened my gloves. I carefully wove my long blonde hair back and tied it in a bun to avoid any unfortunate accidents and made sure to carefully put on the protective vest my father provided me with. It wouldn't stop a lightning bolt from possibly killing me, but better safe than sorry, right?

I can only imagine how Spark would react to all of this. All of the complicated engineering and wiring to even make this thing close to working. He would probably get himself electrocuted again, which is what seemed to happen to everyone who tried to help me with my work.

Finally, after checking to make sure everything was in order and nothing was out of place, it was complete. My newest project was finally done. After months of work, I would finally propel the world (or my house at least) toward the future with my newest creation.

I would finally-

"Shock! Breakfast is ready! Come down and eat it before it gets cold!"

Have to go downstairs and eat breakfast before testing it out…

Sighing deeply, I take off my equipment and head down the hallway to the living room. For a moment I'm tempted to go back to my room and continue with my work, but the thought of displeasing mom was greater.

The moment I step into the dining room I already could hear the sizzling of something being made on the pan. My mother must be preparing bacon because I could smell it in the air. I quickly head into the room to see my mother humming quietly to herself. She seems to be happy, even though today there's a very likely chance she might lose one of her children.

Electron, my littlest sibling, sits at the table, enthusiastically eating some bread my mother prepared for him. I walk in and sit quietly next to him at the table. Bread and an apple are what are on the menu today for me. I take the apple and my teeth begin to sink into the sweet, cold juice that runs down my throat.

As I eat silently, I notice the plates, forks, and drinks set neatly. You'd think we were preparing for a feast, which is what most families do after the reaping.

"What took you so long?" Electron says next to me.

"Busy working on an experiment," I quickly tell him.

"Again? Man, you're always working on your crazy projects."

"They're hopefully going to change the world someday," I say as I take a second bite into the apple.

"I'm sure they will," my mom says happily as she passes Electron some water.

Mom turns to look at me, which is when I finally the lovely yellow dress she wears. She almost never wears anything formal unless it's for an event.

"How's it going, sweetie?" she asks cheerfully.

"Okay," I answer, examining the flowers on the table. The scent of bacon rises into the air and invade my nostrils as I do this. It sort of reminds me of Spark, he always loves bacon.

"Have you seen Spark anywhere?" I ask suddenly.

My mother sighs as she quickly starts to move the pan around, causing the bacon to slide easily.

"No," Electron answers, "He's probably off with his friends though. Just because he's older he can go anywhere he wants."

"When you're older you'll get to go anywhere you want to," I say.

"Yeah, but then I'll have to worry about the Reaping like you two do."

"No one will have to worry about the Reaping because none of you will get selected, now please finish your meal."

I nod and instead of eating my breakfast as my mother instructed me to do, I go back to looking at the flowers and count the number of petals it has. There's seven in total, all of them pure yellow, like the color of the sun and my mother's dress.

"However, I really think you should really hang out with them more," My mom says suddenly.

I looked up, confused.

"I already hang out with Spark, mom," I say, "and his friends aren't really my type."

"I know, Shock, it's just... it would really help you in the long run to be more social toward people you don't know. Nothing wrong with having a friend."

I look at the flowers again. There's six petals now, the seventh one has fallen off, down onto the table, out of reach from everyone else.

"I don't need one," I blurt out, "I have you guys, and you're already amazing, so why waste time trying to find someone like that?"

My mom seems conflicted the moment I force out the words. She says nothing and continues to cook as I count, recount, multiply, divide, and subtract all the petals on the flower by every number possible. I finish the rest of the apple and drink my water quickly. Electron doesn't say anything and when he's done, excuses himself and runs to his room.

I sit there however, at the table alone, contemplating mother's words. I don't know why mom seems so bothered about me finding people to hang out with. What's wrong staying in all day to study or do research to get a good job. I know she looks out for me, but I already have Spark and Electron as friends, and one of them is already enough-

BAM! The door slams open and Spark comes in laughing with his friends. All of them are sweating and smelly, but they don't seem to mind and just plop at the table.

"Spark!" My mother calls out. "How many times have I said to close the front door when you enter the house?"

I smirk at Spark as he sighs and goes to close it.

"Sorry, mom."

He comes back and his friends start to settle down. They all look like they've been running a lot.

"Where were you?" I ask.

"Running the track at school," he answers.

I scoff, almost laughing at his attempt to lie.

"You do know schools are closed for the day due to the Reaping, right?"

Spark begins to protest before Oliver intervenes.

"Spark didn't even know today was the Reaping! Really shows you how small his brain is."

Vicky and Oliver laugh, and I sort of smirk. Spark tries to defend himself before he gives up, realizing its futile.

"Whatever. Sometimes people forget things. So, what are we having for breakfast?"

"Only the best for kids like you, bacon for everyone."

Spark smile reaches his eyes as my mother slides the plate filled with warm, crispy bacon to my brother and the rest of his friends. Oliver also smiles but Vicky pushes the bacon away in disgust.

"Sorry, I'm a vegetarian."

"No, you're not," Spark points out.

"Spark, do you always have to shoot down my reasons to not eat bacon?"

"That's super rude, Vic, his mother made that," Oliver says.

"I know, but you guys don't understand. That tiny little slice of crispy goodness is actually an evil hiding in disguise. The moment you turn your back on it, it plans to kill you!"

"Is this because of the Tony Tuna incident?" My mother says, supplying Vicky with a hot dog instead.

My brother and Oliver laugh hysterically, but I sit quietly, looking at them in confusion.

"What's the Tony Tuna incident?"

"Oliver's mom invited us to eat at a place called Tony Tuna at the square one time When we got there, Vicky ordered some bacon, and as she was eating started to choke on it. Oliver mom went completely nuts and started to slap her back until she coughed it out!"

"Everyone was laughing, it was insane!"

A dumb sounding story is enough to actually form a smile on my mouth, and as I ate more of my breakfast and giggled as they told their ridicules stories. Electron eventually joined us and started to tell his own stories and we laughed at that too. I spent the rest the hour not even thinking of my long-awaited project waiting for me upstairs.

* * *

 _Spark Tarentina – 15 Years Old_

 _District 5 Male_

* * *

This tie is way too tight for me.

I tug at the tie on my brown suit as we walk toward the square. It seems to press down against my neck and prevents me from getting any air in. Not to mention this suit is boiling hot, even though the air us has cooled down somewhat.

My family and I walk with a huge crowd of people. Some calmly walk with their kids, but most of them hold their children tightly, as if any second they might be taken from them.

Right beside me are Oliver and Vicky, both talking quickly. There mostly speaking about arena details, possible mutts, who the unlucky girl and boy are this year. Almost anything that is related to the games they talk about.

"I hear the arena is going to be set in a forest," Oliver says.

"Are you five? They've done that like three thousand times," Vicky counters.

"Still a possibility."

"Yeah, a possibility that has like a three percent chance of happening,"

I don't pay attention to them that much, instead focusing on tugging on the tie again. It might ruin it, but I just needed some air. It loosens just a bit but is still very uncomfortable to wear.

Why the heck is it so tight?

Shock has no problem wearing her outfit that she chose. It flows naturally around her, and it looks very comfortable. I guess that's what I get for waiting too long to pick an outfit; you're at the mercy of your parents picking one for you. Electron also wears a brown suit like me, but his little bow-tie doesn't seem to bother him.

It isn't a long walk until the square quickly appears in sight, and I watch as the Justice Building comes closer in view. While the Justice Building might be a monument in the careers districts, in District Five it brings misery to everyone. The sight of the building is even enough to stop Vicky and Oliver from talking.

Parents and kids arrive in their thousands, many of them silently hugging and saying their quick "good luck's" before they journey into the pen with the other adults. A lot of the kids are chatting with friends, or silently waiting in line, contemplating their life choices. I recognize a few faces, like Alissa from my art class, or Hilton who's on the track team, but none of them seem to be in the mood to talk to me.

Before I head into the line, my sister quickly comes up and hugs me.

"Stay safe."

"Thanks, but don't worry about me. You know I won't be called."

"I know, just in case, you know."

My mother comes up next and hugs me tight.

"You'll be fine. I promise they won't call you."

"I know, mom, Shock and I will be fine," I say reassuringly.

She smiles, wipes a fleeting tear from her eyes and lets my dad come to hug me to.

"Look after your sister, okay?" my father says.

"Who says I'm the one who needs to be looked after?" Shock calls out in the background as mom hugs her.

Me and my dad laugh and give each other one last look before I head off to join my friends. They're both already in the relatively short line and I step in with them. The moment I go in, however, Vicky pounces on me.

"There you are, Shock! What took you so long? I had to stand here and listen to Oliver's constant nagging."

"I wasn't nagging," Oliver says, "Me and Vicky were just talking about the games."

"You guys seem to like talking about the games a lot don't you?" I say.

"Just trying to make conversation."

"You do know that we can literally talk about anything else." Vicky interrupts.

"Nothing else to really talk about is there?"

I can actually think of a million things before Vicky beats me to it.

"Yea there is, like remember when you got that gross toe infection and-"

"VICKY, OH MY GOD, PLEASE DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT!"

And for the rest of the line, me and Vicky talked about it. Luckily for Oliver, the line was relatively short so we couldn't finish with the story. Me and Oliver went together in the fifteen-year-old section as Vicky was carted off with my sister.

"Good luck, guys," Vicky says as she's escorted to the fifteen-year-old section.

"See you soon," my sister says smiling.

Once me and Oliver are split up, it doesn't take long for the square to fill up with millions of antsy, paranoid children. I'm stuck right in between Stephen Hornwald and Eris Grood, who quickly make polite conversation with me before staring back at the stage. They both look like they're about to have a mental breakdown over who the unlucky boy might be this year.

The mayor comes up and like every year and reads some boring list I don't care to remember. It drags on and on and on for so long. it almost feels like it's been entire weeks before he finally finishes and introduces the victors. I don't pay much attention to them either and begin to doze off.

This. Is. So. Boring…

"HELLO, EVERYONE!"

The microphone screeches and I desperately cover my ears to muffle the noise. I look up to see the escort standing there, laughing giddily and eyeing the crowd with excitement.

"I'M SURE ALL OF YOU ARE VERY EXCITED ABOUT THE GAMES THIS YEAR! I KNOW I AM, AND I'M SUPER EXCITED TO SEE THE TRIBUTES! OH, YES, I AM! IT'S GOING TO BE A BLAST!"

Her voice almost makes me lose my train of thought as I desperately try to cover my ears to block the sound. She seems to not notice, even though everyone is clearly giving signs to her that she's quite annoying.

"WE SHAN'T DILLY DADDLE NOW! LET'S SEE WHO THE LUCKY WINNERS ARE THIS YEAR! LADIES FIRST!

The escort quickly goes over to the ball and slams her hand into it. My heart skips a beat as she digs around as all I can think about in the moment are about Shock and Vicky. They must be frozen, watching the ball in horror. It must be torture, and quite frankly, it is for me to watch the escort agonize over witch slip to choose until she grabs one she likes.

You know those moments when something horribly insane happens? People usually describe moments like as time was slowing down for them. For me though, it was completely different. Time seemed to fly quicker than anything I've ever experienced as she holds it in the air for everyone to see, and then unfolds the slip. With her voice as loud as thunder and as strong as lighting itself, she practically screams out the name.

"SHOCK TARENTINA IS OUR GIRL! CONGRATULATIONS!"

It doesn't register at first. I stand there looking at the slip in confusion, like an idiot, wondering what just happened. Did they really just call my sister's name? No, they couldn't have, that's impossible. Her chances are slim compared to many others in the district it couldn't be her. It had to be another girl with the same name, that happens all the time in reapings. I don't snap out of my little haze as the peacekeepers start to drag my sister to the stage.

It's the sound though, of my mother's cries that then pull me into reality. My heart slams in my chest, my eyes widen, everything feels so blurry. I watch, in complete horror, as my sister is dragged up to onto the stage. My mom screams, and her screams echo in my ears. I feel like screaming, because now I know my sister is actually going into the games if someone does not help her. I look at the girl's section, all of them silent and relived. I search for any guilty eyes, someone who might volunteer and save my sister. I knew it was a long shot, but maybe, just somehow maybe, someone would save her.

No one does.

Stephen beside me tries to give me a reassuring pat on the back, but I pull away. Everyone starts to clap for some reason, but their sound starts to dim. I can still hear my mother's cries in the background. The escorts bright colors make my eyes trained on her, in anger, in confusion. I'm enraged and want to run up and destroy her, but I can't and watch as she goes to the next bowl.

"LET'S NOW START WITH THE BOYS!"

I don't care who gets picked, I just look at my sister, who is slightly shaking. I can tell she's trying so hard not to cry, I've lived with her for so long that I can tell when she tries to hide her tears. Her face is scrunched up, her eyes squinted tightly, her mouth forms a smile to try and make it seems she's happy.

She's not though, I can tell she isn't at all happy about the situation. No one volunteers for her. She's going to die. I love her, but I know that she wouldn't last a day in there with all of the careers and tributes hunting her down. She would have no one else to turn to.

"WILL JACOB ORION PLEASE STEP UP TO THE STAGE?"

I don't realize the boy has been called until Jacob starts walking to the stage. He's angry, upset, mad. Just like me.

I want to crumple up in defeat, to cry and scream and kick someone for doing this to me. I have Oliver and Vicky to lean onto for support, I even have my other sibling Electron, but no one can replace my sister. She'll die in there unless someone saves her, and I'm sure Jacob Orion isn't handing out any freebies on his life.

No one will help her unless she has someone to trust, and beside me and my family, who can she trust really? A bunch of strangers in different districts with who knows what personalities will kill her in a flash for a chance to win. I can't let that happen. I can't be at home and watch her die like that.

I have to be there for her.

My eyes tense up at the stage, staring at Shock. She tries so hard to stop shaking. A lump in my throat appears, maybe because of the tie. My hand starts to move. I start to sweat like crazy. I can't stop myself, I have to practically spit out the words before everyone can finally hear me, and I make sure to scream louder than I ever had before.

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

No way is she going into this alone.

* * *

 _Shock Tarentina – 15 Years Old_

 _District 5 Female_

* * *

The reaping…

What a sorrowful event to have to participate in. Every year, ending in the same result. Twenty-four poor children forced into an arena with no hope for survival. Except for the careers of course, but they're considered psychotic anyway so no one really cares about them as much.

I stand in the fifteen-year-old pen, which is not at all fun. The number of girls chatting about things I don't really care about and bumping into me harshly is astronomical. Not to mention that it's kind of boring out here, standing alone with no one to talk to.

Whenever I wasn't home, working on my projects and experiments, I always talked to Spark to keep myself from going mad. Now that he's not here, I have no one to really talk to, except Spark's friend Vicky, who stands two girls away from my right. I don't know her that much though, and she seems like she's already talking to another girl I don't know.

Nevertheless, the reaping should be ending soon. Our escort this year, Harper, is very speedy and seems to want to get over the reaping as fast as possible. She's freakishly tall for a normal human being, and her eyelashes exceed the normal limit of reality.

"HELLO, EVERYONE!"

Not to mention she shouts really loud.

Everyone covers their ears as the mic screeches across the square.

"I'M SURE ALL OF YOU ARE VERY EXCITED ABOUT THE GAMES THIS YEAR! I KNOW I AM, AND I'M SUPER EXCITED TO SEE THE TRIBUTES! OH, YES, I AM! IT'S GOING TO BE A BLAST!"

I can't help but roll my eyes at this escort, and then I smirk at the thought of Spark reacting to my reaction to this.

"WE SHAN'T DILLY DADDLE NOW! LET'S SEE WHO THE LUCK WINNERS ARE THIS YEAR! LADIES FIRST!"

My annoyance with the escort quickly turns to slight fear as she slams her hand into the girl's bowl. She practically throws slips out until she finds one she likes. She holds it up for all the girls to see.

I stare at it, coldly. That slips seals one girls fate, one girl that probably has friends, family, love interest. She's about to lose it all with that single slip the escort holds high above her head. I don't know why I think too much into it, I've done this so many times I've never really cared anymore. However, I have a feeling, like something bad is going to happen this year.

She, the escort I mean, walks to the microphone, unfolds the slip, and her loud booming voice cuts through the square with the name.

"SHOCK TARENTINA IS OUR GIRL! CONGRATULATIONS!"

Nothing prepares me for it. I stand in horror as the air in my lungs dissolves, my heart pounds against my chest, my legs start to fail. I almost fall unconscious until a girl behind me touches my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I don't know who she is, I don't remember who anyone is at the moment. All I can remember is hearing my name, bouncing up and down in my head.

 _Shock Tarentina! Congratulations! Shock Tarentina! Congratulations! Shock Tarentina! Congratulations!_

This isn't happening. It can't be! I'm not done yet! I'm not done changing the world, my future!

Right now, however, my future is literally yanked away from me as a couple of peacekeepers grab my arms and drag me to the stage. Dirt climbs into my boots, tears threaten to spill out of my eyes, I'm gulping down air like there's no tomorrow. The kids in the different sections watch me in despair as I'm dragged away.

I can see my mom shrieking; her mouth opens wide, producing a choked uproar. Dad's trying to calm her down, but it's a futile attempt. Was it just an hour ago when she was calling me down for breakfast? When she smiled at me great reassurance? Had it really been an hour ago when all that happened?

They drop me onto the stage and I shakily stand up. The escort, having no awareness to the situation talks excitedly to me, cheering happily and encouraging the crowd to clap for my demise. They clap, but I can tell they're not enjoying it at all. It's sickening to hear it, and it's sickening to watch the excitement on the escort's face.

"LET'S NOW START WITH THE BOYS!" she says happily.

No one says a word as she digs her hand around violently into the bowl of slips. The pieces of paper fly around in excited movement as the escort finally grabs a slip she's happy with. As this process happens, I no longer think of myself, or of my fate. Maybe I should be, crying over myself about what's to come, but all I can think about in the heat of the moment is my brother.

What if his name is on the slip?

The single thought of having to fight my brother in the arena, or having to watch him die, tears me apart. I pray harder than I ever had that it's not his name. I might already be dead, but he does not deserve the same fate as me.

The escort opens the tiny piece of paper, almost too quickly for me to process, and she's already calling out the name before I know it.

"WILL JACOB ORION PLEASE STEP UP TO THE STAGE?"

I don't know which emotion I feel first, but relief and fear run through my body at the exact same time at the realization that it will not be my brother joining me. Instead, I watch as the boy, Jacob, comes out of the fourteen-year-old section in shock, disbelief, anger. He seems to slow down as he makes his way to the stage, as if he's still trying to process what's happening.

Then, I hear his voice. My brother's voice.

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

My world shatters, literally shatters, as I watch my brother race out of his section without hesitation and run to the stage. The look on his face tells it all, concern, bravery, acting complete calm as he passes Jacob and rushes to my side. He doesn't even look worried about what he just signed up for to be at my side.

His arms wrap around me and I return his embrace. So many emotions are running through me at this moment. Anger, confusion, fear. It takes so long for me to process what's happening until I see Jacob Orion returning to his section.

My brother just volunteered.

He looks at me with concern. It almost makes me want to cry as I see his eyes water and sparkle. I can tell he's holding back tears.

"Why?" Is all I can muster out. I have to force it out of my mouth.

"I had to," he simply says before standing by my side.

For the moment, the world doesn't exist. I don't hear the widely clapping escort or catch the worrying look from the victors. It's just me and my brother for the tiniest moment in my existence. For a moment, nothing existed. For a moment, it was just me and my brother standing side by side.

Then I hear the anthem play.

It vibrates my bones, shakes my skin. My ears pound with sound as the anthem continues, cranked so loud I can barely hear our parents screams and sobs anymore. I tightly hold onto my brother's hand, and he grips it tightly as well.

Maybe there will come a time where I scream and shout at my brother for being so horribly dumb. To lecture him about what huge consequence volunteering just caused between our family. Maybe there will come a time where I make him realize his mistake.

But for now, I'm just glad he's by my side, ready to take on the games together.

* * *

 **Finally got this chapter out. It took way longer than I expected it being.**

 **I don't want to bore you with any details of why this chapter took so long to publish, but if you want to know really badly, you can PM me and we can talk about it.**

 **But whatever about that, the next reaping is finally out and I'm moving onto district 6. Thank you so much 2017tnt for both Shock and Spark. There quite an interesting pair and I can't wait to write more of them together.**

 **Please leave a review if you can and enjoy the rest of your day!**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire45**


	9. Chapter 9 - District 6 Reaping

_Albida Naal – 17 Years Old_

 _District 6 Female_

* * *

Everything about the house screamed abandoned.

Most of the wood was rotting away, the roof sagged as its shingles fell to the ground, and most of the windows were either cracked or smashed in completely. I studied the rest of the area around the house and found that dead too. The dirty pale porch looked unwelcoming and deadly, most of the grass was gone, and the garden that once held so much life had now lied dead in it's boundary.

Any normal person would have just kept their distance from the place, as rumors have circulated that huge rats populate the house now. Any normal person would have assumed that no one lived in the horrid space anymore. Normal people would have just past the house without a second thought.

Instead of doing that though, I just venture deeper into the yard, passing the dead grass on my way to the porch. A tinge of sadness invaded my thoughts as I climbed the decaying steps that led to the front door. I couldn't shake the feeling away, even as I used the key I stole from dad and unlocked the door. I tried to open it, but the door wouldn't move an inch. Something must have happened to the hinges.

 _What a great first start._

Thank goodness I decided to do this on reaping day. I don't think people would take it to kindly to stand by and watch a teenage girl breaking into houses right across the street from them. Today though, they have… other things to worry about besides me.

However, even with no one watching me, I tried to make sure I didn't make too much noise as I rammed my shoulder against the door. Silent pain erupted into my arm as I did this, but I pushed forward as the door slowly started to move.

After five times, I heard the hinges screech and the door jut open. I could feel the presence of the door disappear as I began falling toward the floor. My hands naturally reached out to catch myself, but I did so too early and crashed onto the rotting floor.

It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, as pain appeared for a split second before going away. Nothing felt broken, and I don't think I cut myself either. The worst injury I could possibly have would be bruises, but after quickly checking myself, I concluded that I certainly won't die from them.

Wobbling as I stood, I clutched onto the broken dresser and examined the inside of the house. I was currently in the living room, where withered couches and busted T.V's laid rest. A few paintings hung around me, the dust covering up what must have once been great works of art. I could see the hallway which must lead to the bedrooms and the kitchen that attaches to the living room.

It was weird being back, finding everything like this.

I didn't bother to check the entire house, so I walked down the hallway, careful to avoid tripping over the loose planks before I came upon the bedroom. The door was slightly open, and light streamed out of the thin opening in think beam of sunlight. Pain rose in my chest as I opened the door. It creaked so loud that anyone within a two-mile radius could have heard me, but no one came to stop me as I stepped in the decaying room.

Everything was dusty, the bed, the drawers, the windows that looked out into the backyard. Nothing was touched since we last left. I stood there, sinking all the memories in. I can practically see all the drawings I used to make and hung them on the wall for mother to see. So many things I used to do here before…

I close the door.

There's nothing in the other two rooms, so I skip everything and go for what I really came for, my parent's room. The bed lies still, the mirror is shattered, the sheets are tattered, and everything is a mess. The only thing that is neat and tidy is the chair positioned in the corner of the room. On it lies a music box.

 _The_ music box.

My heart skips a beat once my eyes land on it. The sunlight that manages to slip inside the room makes the golden box radiate with yellow light. Before I know it, I'm kneeling down to the music box and study it closely. It looks clean, almost in pristine condition, unlike everything else in this place. Someone might have been taking care of it before I came along. Whoever it was, their long gone now, and it's mine again.

I touch it, gracefully tracing the letters _mother_ with my fingertips. Tears start to appear, but they do not spill, instead continuing to linger uncomfortably in my eyes. Waves of guilt and sadness rush over me, making my lungs burn and my throat sore. To get rid of the feeling, I quickly press a button on the side to open the box and see what's inside

The first thing I see is the jewelry in the box surrounding the platform that holds the women. There still here, even after so many years. I sigh in relief as I pick up my mother's still shining necklaces and pearls. I would take some for myself, but I can't, I know I can't or else I would die.

My eyes scan to see if my mother left more jewelry before I see the women. She's fake, obviously, but constructed and created in a way that she looks like she's glowing. She wears a flowing white gown that crawls down to her legs. A shimmering necklace hangs from her thin pale neck. Her blonde bun shines in the sun.

It looks exactly like mom, and it feels like she's watching me from this glassy figure's eyes, wondering what my next choice will be.

Clutching the box with my hand, memories of my mother start to flood in as I kneel there. She sings in the bathroom, brushing my dirty brown hair. She stands at the kitchen, cooking my favorite meal with my father when he was kind and gentle. There she is in the garden, watering plants silently as she stares into the pond.

I wish things were the same as it was back then before my life went to absolute shit, but nothing can change the past now. I have to do this, even if I disappoint my mother beyond belief, I have to remind myself that she's dead and can't see me doing this. It's so hard though, it's hard to convince myself when everywhere I look there's a piece of her looking down on me.

I take one last look at the women before taking the box and shoving it in my coat.

"I'm so sorry mom," I say silently.

Then I take off. Run right out of the house, down the road, and toward the square.

* * *

 _Hadid Caulfield - 16 Years Old_

 _District 6 Male_

* * *

The store is quiet today.

It's not like there are many customers that come here, to begin with, but it's surprisingly emptier then it usually is. Occasionally in the store, there is the worried mother who comes in to buy medicine for her sick child, or the quiet and definitely shady teen that lurks behind the aisles scanning each of the medicine cabinets like candy.

Luckily for me, not many people were here right now, most likely because today was reaping day and everyone who does come to the shop must be at home hyperventilating in their bathrooms right now. Even mom and dad, who are my supervisors when I work, we're off somewhere. Probably picking out my reaping outfit in one of those really lousy clothing stores.

There was really only one woman in the store though, who was preventing me from just straight up skipping my shift. She must've had a lot of time on her hands since she was slowly browsing the shelves in agonizing speed. If only she could hurry up, then, I could close the store and just hightail it out back home to work on my own things.

She takes like, five more minutes looking around the shop before she comes up to the counter with two things, A bottle of Tylenol, and a box full of Bismuth subsalicylate pills. It doesn't look like it's for her since she appears fine. I guess it must be another sick child type scenario.

With silent annoyance, I take the pills and smile warmly to the women.

"Hello their miss," I say as I begin checking out the medicine, "find everything okay?"

"Yes, I found everything quite quickly," she says looking through her purse, "you're store is really well organized."

"Thank you miss," I say, "that really means a lot considering what day it is."

The woman lets out a distressed sigh, possibly in fear or anger at the reminder of the games again. It seems that no one really likes them, which doesn't really bother me. As long as it doesn't interfere too much with my life, then I'm pretty much okay with the whole idea.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot what day it is," the women says sadly, "to think an entire year has gone by."

"Yes, it's quite a shame," I lie, "maybe one day they'll put a stop to it."

"I certainly hope so," she says, "my son, Timothy, keeps asking about them, and I don't think I have the heart to tell him. He's only six."

"Is the medicine for him then?" I ask.

"No, it's not for him. It's for my daughter, Annalisa. She's eleven this year, and is going through an awful cold during the worst time possible."

A part inside me groans in annoyance as I put the medicine in the bag. This lady doesn't really stop talking, but I can't tell her to buzz off either or else I look like a jerk, and I can't really afford that.

"Well, I hope your daughter gets better soon then," I say, handing the women the bag.

"Yes, I pray every night," she answers.

Once I give her the bag, she quickly takes out the amount of money that is needed to complete the transaction. She hands it to me, and I quickly stash it in the cash register we own. Funny to think we still have them around.

After the transaction is complete, I bid the women farewell.

"Have a safe trip back miss," I say.

"Thank you," she says happily, "the world needs a lot more people like you young man,"

 _Oh, it sure does,_ I think quietly as the familiar chime of the bell goes off.

With no one around now, I probably still have enough time to cock up some new remedies for my other "job" before the reapings start. Besides, standing quietly at a counter with no one around really makes you start to go crazy from boredom.

My eyes peer from left to right to make sure the coast is clear and I quickly flip the hanging open sign to closed. Then after shutting the curtains, I rush to the back room and check out quickly with my card. There's no one around to see me as I grab my coat and head outside into the cold and chilling day.

The market square is dark and cold. There are surprisingly not many people out, and there are only a few stores lit up, the pharmacist shop not being one of them. It oddly weird how relaxing it is with everything so quiet and empty, as it's been quite busy for the past two days with the hunger games coming up. Everyone's been so busy buying things to mentally prepare themselves for the whole week of bloodshed in the arena.

Thank goodness it is too. With the hunger games coming around the corner, it means fewer peacekeepers to go snooping around in my personal life and questioning me all the time. For a few days at least, I've been able to do my secret errands without any intervention. It's been quite peaceful actually with the fear of the games running high in everyone.

It's a couple blocks away, but I eventually make it to my home. It stands out brightly against the other grey and ashy houses that dot the neighborhood. You'd think that our district would have clean houses being all about transportation and all, but I guess not many people are too keen on keeping up on neatness when they constantly fix train engines all day.

Once I get the key and open the door, the familiar scent of mother's perfume evades my nostrils. The sweet smell of roses carpets the entire room from top to bottom, suggesting that my mother was here recently.

She calls it, "Sweet Rose", and she always sprays a dab on herself for a special occasion. The smell is so strong though that almost anyone from a mile away would gag at a whiff. My dad hates it, and to be quite frank, I don't like the smell either, but the perfume always seems to put mom into a trance of peace, for a little while anyway.

The smell of the perfume aside, the rest of the house looks quite normal. The living room is in shape, the kitchen is neat, everything else seems fine. I make sure to check the potted plants around the room though so no one left any recording devices. Some of those peacekeepers do it some time to try and catch me, but I'd like to think that I'm too slick for them.

Once I find that there are no recording devices, I start to relax a bit more and head to my bedroom. There's not much in there, just a white bed, a desk overflowing with notes, a wardrobe, and a few chairs to relax. I don't do most of my operations here, which is why the room is so barren and empty. I still attempt to keep it neat at all times though to be presentable at least.

When I enter the room, I throw my bag to the side and flop into my dull grey bed. Even though the reaping wasn't until a couple of hours away, I still couldn't help but think about it.

I usually never have thoughts about it, as the reaping has never interested me unless the boy names were being called, and almost every time it wasn't me anyway. Today though I can't help but shake the feeling of it away.

Hopefully the feeling goes away soon, otherwise It's going to be a long day.

* * *

 _Albida Naal – 17 Years Old_

 _District 6 Female_

* * *

The music box bounces around wildly in my coat as I run to the square. I'm sweating like crazy, my heart's pounding, and I can't help but glance every now and then to see if there's a peacekeeper after me. I've almost become like Axel Wren, way too paranoid and crazy, but I have a reason for doing so at least.

My eyes diver to my arm to check my watch, only two minutes left until I'm screwed. I don't know how I'm going to get there in time. I pray that the reaping starts a little bit late, but when it comes to the hunger games, it usually never is. So I run like mad. My feet pound into the ground, and I rush ahead. No one's out right now, definitely because of the reaping that's happening. Even with me running, I don't know if I'll make it.

I enter the town square, filled with shops, eating areas, and tons of other pretty places. I don't stop to admire the scenery before taking off toward the justice building. I'm so close now. I can almost make it before the reaping starts.

After a few moments, the justice building comes in sight, and in the distance I see three people waiting in line. I can do this, I just have to be quick. I practically fly all the way to the reaping. I don't try and think of how people will react to me being late, but I can't miss this, or the capitol will do something much worse to me and my father.

There's only one girl in line by the time I get there. I'm gasping for air, sweating like a river, and panting like a dog all in one take. The girl probably thinks I'm crazy but I don't even care right now. All I can think about is the music box in my bag.

The peacekeeper seems annoyed at me and the girl being so late, but he does us quickly and were pushed into our areas. A huge feeling of relief passes through me as I almost slump in my spot, happy I made it in time. Now I just have to get through this, hopefully not get caught with the music box in my jacket, and get home.

Once I start to relax a bit more, I start to observe my surrounding carefully to see if anyone's watching me. I'm in between a girl I don't know and Abigail Quint, one of the most popular girls in my school. I don't say a thing to them, instead deciding to clutch my coat where I know my mother's music box is.

It feels like a brick weighing down on my clothes, threating to spill out reveal itself to everyone. It's hard to not worry about it as Items of any kind are prohibited during reapings, and the shiny golden music box in my coat could seriously be seen as a violation of the rules. Sweat trickles down my skin as I watch the stage, quietly hoping this event happens quick.

Everyone quietly waits in their sections as the mayor begins his speech. I don't pay attention that much, as I'm way more worried about someone finding out about the thing I have in my coat. Besides, the speech is always the same every year, how we lost a war, started the hunger games, and boom we're stuck here now.

The mayor then introduces the victors and everyone cheers. The reason they do this is because of Axel Wren, who sits pathetically on stage. He rocks back and forth in the chair, clutching his hair and tapping his foot onto the ground continuously. His eyes are so wide they look like pristine white dinner plates. Stella Isla must be disturbed by his behavior like me because she positions her chair away from him.

Even though Axel won for our district last year, he's still a sorrow excuse for a victor. No one can even talk to him without getting a fist to the face because he suspects them as capitol spies. He's a mad man, a complete lunatic, and someone people tend to stay clear of. I know I shouldn't judge to hard as he survived the hunger games and had to deal with the stress afterword, but it doesn't excuse him from being a lunatic.

The victors then sit down, and the escort comes out. He introduces himself as Kyle (That's it, just Kyle, no last name or anything) and starts to talk about how excited he is for the games.

"I'm excited for the opportunity to select and prepare the future tributes of district six."

 _I bet you are_ , I think sarcastically.

"Let's start with the ladies as always,"

We all watch as he puts his hand in the bowl, digs around quickly before grabbing a slip. The music box feels heavy in my coat as he does this. I don't even have time to worry about who it might be as he walks to the mic, opens the slip, and calls out the name.

"Albida Naal, please come to the stage,"

For a moment my heart stops, and everything in my life is replaced with fear. My head feels woozy, and I can practically feel the ground underneath me begin to fall. The music box feels so heavy that it's practically dragging me to the floor now.

Why? Why me?! Why me out of all people in this flipping district? I already had enough problems, and I didn't need anything else to add to them. My father's probably freaking out now. I'll die in there, I will die just like.

I can't even think about her right now.

It's suicide to go up on the stage, but I step out of my section anyway, not crying, not tripping, and not smiling shyly either. I just walk to the stage with a determined look, barely glancing at anyone else on my way. If I was going to die, I might as well show everyone that i'm ready to fight for my life and not give up like a child.

Once I make it to my spot, Kyle instantly bombards me with his fake excitement.

"How exciting!" he shouts, "tell us, honey, what is your name?"

"Albida Naal," I say bluntly.

"Wow! What a very creative name! I wish I had a name like that!"

"I bet you do," I say into the microphone on purpose, which triggers a chuckle in the crowd.

Kyle seems taken aback from my comment but doesn't attempt to ask me more questions. Instead, he continues on with the reaping, picking out the boy name, however, I don't pay attention to whoever he calls.

At the moment, I just am waiting for it all to be over.

* * *

 _Hadid Caulfield – 16 Years Old_

 _District 6 Male_

* * *

The sound of chatter and obnoxious laughing fills my ears as I wait for the reaping to start.

I don't pay much attention to the conversation made around me, but I can't help but silently groan at the boys attempt to make some friendly banter with each other. To others, it's a good way to pass time, but to me, it seems like a pointless attempt to try and make things seem cheery during an event where children are picked for slaughter.

It was quite odd and distracting to hear so many people talking to one another though. For most years, the people of district six are usually quiet and downcast during the reapings, which is how I honestly prefer it. This year, it seems there's much more confidence circulating around the crowd after our last year victory in the games.

At some points, the boy next to me, Minroe Honer, tries to talk to me. Instead of rudely blowing him off as most people do, I politely decline the invitation for conversation and quickly focus my attention back to the stage. Nothing good can come from being distracted during an event like the reaping, where the attention must always be focused on the stage.

There isn't much to look at, except the huge glass bowls that sit eerily on the tables, containing the names of everyone in this square. One pluck from the bowl by the escort and a child's life is finished. I know for a fact I have six slips, only six slips out of everyone else's here. The odds should be greatly in my favor right now as long as nothing "unexpected" happens to weaken my chances.

For the sake of everyone here that counts on my "job", they should hope that doesn't happen.

The last kids are escorted inside and the reaping begins like every year. It's the same every time, the mayor's speech, the victors standing, Panem anthem, blah blah blah. The only thing that ever changes during the reapings are the escorts, and it seems like this year we got a very lousy one.

His name is Kyle Verdant, and he quickly comes up to the stage to talk about how "excited he is to be there!" when we all really know that the escorts are aiming for the career districts.

"I'm excited for the opportunity to select and prepare the future tributes of district six," he says excitedly.

At this point, I just start to go autopilot and ignore everything he says. There's no point wasting brain power to process his words. It isn't until he's plucking out the girls name that I sort of focus back in since this is a major thing that happens. He unfolds the slip and announces who the next dead child may be.

"Albida Naal, please come to the stage," he calls.

The girl is nobody I know, so I don't pay much attention to her as she walks up to the stage. Kyle asks "Albida" a few questions before he starts to compliment her name and how unique it sounds. She snaps back with a sarcastic comment, causing some people in the crowd to chuckle.

She seems aggressive at least but doesn't look anything close to an upcoming victor no matter how many times she tries to appear dominant.

Kyle, in an attempt to save his reputation for the capitol, introduces Albida and then goes to pick the boy who will represent district six this year.

He fishes out a slip, opens it up, and reads the name out loud to the audience.

"Hadid Caulfield is our lucky winner!" he shouts.

I stand there, like an idiot for a short amount of time before the information reaches my brain and fully impacts me.

 _Wait… I was reaped?_

Sweat starts to appear on my forehead, and I desperately try to wipe it away. My throat swells up tightly, causing me to start choking on myself. This can't be happening, this can't! I only had six slips, how could I have gotten reaped if I had six slips? Thousands of other people had ten, twenty, forty even, and it was me? How was it me? How could it have been…

Everyone's waiting for me, I can tell because everyone's standing completely still, watching me worriedly. I can't move though; my feet feel like they're glued to the ground. If I wait any longer then the peacekeepers themselves will drag me up to the stage, but I can't bring myself to go up there. Up there is my death, and I cannot die.

The sudden sound of scuffling peacekeeper boots behind me snap my mind back into reality. Before one can grab my arm. I dodge from his hand and quickly walk to the stage by myself without any escorts. No way was I going to let any authority figures drag me up to the justice building on national television, especially peacekeepers since I know they have it out for me.

As I ascend the wooden stairs to the stage, each step I take feels like a pounding drum, leading me to my inevitable death. For a second, I contemplate running away from the square like so many do, but that has never really worked for anyone, so I just quietly make my way onto the rotting stage.

I take my place beside Albida, and the mayor quickly asks for volunteers. No one does though because even though they have those worrying eyes, they're all still going to let me die, throw me under the bus like I always knew they would do.

My only chance out of this now is to play smart. It's going to be hard, but I can't die in there, I won't. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, I'm going to take it without any second thoughts, and no one is going to stop me.

My eyes scan the stage around me to see what I have to work with. The escort doesn't look helpful at all, and the two mentors I now have seemed way more terrified than me. The only other person here who might be worth some value is Albida, and she seems like she has no interest to team up with me.

If these were in different circumstances, I wouldn't want to team up with her either, but considering the situation I'm in, doesn't look like I have much choice.

When the anthem ends, I quickly grab hold of Albida's hand and shake it before the mayor even asks us to do so. She instantly looks confused, before she lightly shakes it back as a neutral gesture. Instead of smiling and trying to seem all friendly, I maintain a serious face, looking straight into her brown eyes.

"See you in there," is all I say before I let go.

She doesn't say anything after that, even when the peacekeepers start to escort us into the justice building, and permanently separate us for good.

* * *

 **DISTRICT 6 IS HERE! And with this chapter, we are... _halfway..._ through the reapings. Oh boy.**

 **I'm going too be honest guys, i'm having a really tough time getting through these reapings. A lot of things are going on in my life that I again won't bring up, and I'm not as confident in my writing ability then I used to be. I promise though that I will get through these reapings, upload more, and get to the games I know you all want to see. So sit tight, I promise it's coming and it'll be worth the wait.**

 **Now onto the chapter. Definitely not one of my best, but I hoped you all like it anyway. Thank you to my beta reader RainEStar3 for giving me Hadid, and to Luluthefox for giving me Albida. I tried to do them justice in this chapter, and I promise they'll get more involvement along the line. Next up is district seven and a review chapter from the capitol's POV, let's hope I get it done before three months.**

 **Take Care**

 **-C andleFire45**


	10. Chapter 10 - District 7 Reaping

_Boris Axelman – 16 Years Old_

 _District 7 Male_

* * *

Stinging cold water stabs into my skin as I start to clean the dishes.

My senses kick in instantly, flinching the moment the water comes in contact with my hands. It burns like hell funnily enough, but I quickly just shake it off and try to ignore it as I start cleaning the plates stacked next to me.

The water pours heavily onto the dishes as I quickly submerge the plates in foamy soap and scrub away with the sponge. Bits and pieces of meat and mashed potatoes from last night's meal slowly disintegrate from the plate, fading away into nothing until the dish is pristine white. They sparkle and glisten in the sun's light that enters through our home windows, making me squint before putting the plates under the sink water to wash away the soap. Once the soap and studs are gone, I put the plate on a dish rack to dry and start the process all over again.

It's strangely satisfying to watch the filth disappear from the plates and glasses as I scrub away. It somehow makes me content knowing that I'm the reason it goes away, like an all-powerful emperor ridding the land of all wicked and evil until only peace remains. Sure, the water burns thanks to how cold it is, but all task comes with danger and pain, right? Why not do it and come out with bruises and scrapes, knowing you still accomplished something great.

Technically I don't have to do this since it's Kelsi's job, but sitting around in the house all day waiting for the reaping to happen is a boring chore for me to do on its own. Besides, someone's got to clean the dishes, don't want to reuse dirty plates and potentially get sick or something. Even though the water is freezing right now, It doesn't bother since I'm pretty much used to the feeling of numb fingers and aching hands.

That's the cost of hard work, and it shows at least once you're done with it. For me, every day is about work, that's all it is anymore. Work from the morning, all the way until dusk, then we go to sleep and do it all over again the next day. Even during holidays where workers like me aren't sent into the woods to chop down trees, there is always work to do at home. Wash the dishes, do the laundry, clean the house, prepare dinner, the essentials that every household has to accommodate.

Sure it's boring as hell, but at least you're doing something about a situation instead of sitting around wasting away.

If only today we were working in the forest. It would sure help take my mind off the games better then dishes could. It's hard to really think that I have only two years left after this if I'm not chosen today, which would be a miracle thanks to the stupid tessera I have to take every year. I think at least I have twenty slips, or maybe thirty.

Whatever the case is, my odds aren't looking so good this year.

My hands instinctively read for another plate once I'm done cleaning Pine's most used glass that she drinks from when I quickly find that there's nothing else for me to wash. So much for cleaning the dishes, now what am I supposed to do?

Shaking my head, I grab the dish towel and clean my hands before looking around for something to do. The house is clean neat and tidy for the most part, and I know that dinner is already taken care of for tonight with the reaping and all. Dad is out, probably shopping for some the ingredients we need tonight for our feast, so can't go shopping either.

The laundry is being done by both Pine and mom outside, they've been at it for a while now making sure everything is washed nice and good. They probably have everything under control since they've been washing laundry forever, but maybe I could help and pass the time chatting with them.

Agreeing with the plan, I grab my coat and head into the backyard.

The second my foot lands on the grass outside, I start shivering before I can even stop myself. It's way too cold to be doing anything right now, but I see both my mother and sister washing away with two tubs of water near them. The clothesline is filled with wet clothes that blow in the breeze. They seem like they're almost about done now.

I step over to them to see their faces. Pine's eyes are seeped in concentration as she dips one of Martin's shirts into the tub full of soap and detergent. She seems quiet as she does this, not even noticing me as she continues with the process.

My mother, on the other hand, notices me approaching instantly, somehow sensing my presence before I even have a chance to speak.

"No Boris," she says calmly, "we don't need any help at the moment. We're almost done now anyway."

It's funny how my mom works sometimes, knowing exactly what people are going to say before she even has to speak to them. She's special like that, knowing all of our wants and needs to understand what we're going to say before we even say it.

"You sure?" I ask, "I can still help."

Pine chuckles as she dips Kelsi's skirt into the soapy tub.

"We really don't need you cracking the whip while we do this," she says, "besides, don't you have the reaping to worry about-"

Before Pine can finish, mom gives her a simple look to tell her to stop talking. I know what she was trying to say though before mom cut her off. Me taking tessera for four years now, and being sixteen doesn't really make this year's reaping look so well for me.

Even if I did get selected, I don't think I would mind too much. As long as everyone else in my family is safe, I would be okay going to a slaughterhouse filled with fear induced children.

"We're fine Boris," mom says, "how about you check in on Martin instead."

Something to think about other than the reaping, good.

"Okay," I say, "I guess I'll let you guys back at it then."

"Will do sheriff," Pine says.

"See you soon Boris," mom replies, "we're almost done anyway."

I nod to mom and quickly go inside. It's not much warmer when I close the doors, but I can certainly feel the difference around me. Everything feels so much better in this tiny house of ours, even if it is a bit small.

It's a quick trip to Martin's room, and I can already tell before opening the door that he's sleeping. His snoring is so loud it could practically wake up a bear from hibernation. What I am surprised by is that he's sleeping on my bed instead of his own. Since our family is a bit bigger then my parents anticipated, we ended up having to share a lot of our rooms to make things work. So I got bunked with Martin, which isn't too bad. Sure he's annoying sometimes, but it's not awful sharing a room with him.

Usually, Martin would throw a huge fit if he ever caught me in his bed, but I don't tend to mine when he sleeps in my bed. It's just a bed, so it doesn't really matter. Since Martin's asleep, and there's no one else to talk to, I guess there's nothing to do but count down the clock until the reaping finally arrives.

I haven't really thought about it all too much. Shouldn't I be terrified right now being the oldest? I think I have at least twenty or thirty slips. Shouldn't I be crying and shivering as the clock ticks by until we have to go to the square?

Surprisingly, I'm not worried. I don't know if it's because I want to appear strong or something, but I'm not nervous about this year. Even if I got picked it wouldn't be so bad. I would just try my best and do whatever it took to win. It could almost be considered easy if the right set of tributes were weaker then me. I think I could take on a career, maybe even two. If I was sent in, I would actually have fairly balanced odds.

So I don't worry, and instead, sit on a chair at my desk and let the reaping drift from my mind.

* * *

 _Willow Je_ _nsten - 18 Years Old_

 _District 7 Female_

* * *

The market place is quieter than usual.

It isn't that surprising since today is the reaping and people usually don't go out during it, but it still looks quite odd to see the main square empty. There are a few stragglers here and there, but they're so silent that I sometimes forget that they're present anyway. They all seem to be shopping for things, like clothes, food, medication, the usual as always before disaster strikes today.

If you exclude all the "mutes" in the area, technically it's just me out here. I'm supposed to be buying some bread from the bakery today, with what little money we have anyway. Mom says it's for a treat to celebrate another year of living like it's a special accomplishment to avoid starving to death. It kind of is in a way, especially since today is my final year for the reaping.

When mom asked me if I could go and buy the bread, I took the request in a heartbeat without glancing an eye. Sure, it was kind of cold, and it had rained the night before, but I was really determined to get out of the house and do something other than sitting around and wait for the reaping to start. No point in sitting around all day and not accomplishing anything, especially if that time could've been used to somehow benefit you.

Even if this certain activity doesn't benefit me though, it's still nice to go out and do something.

It's a bit of a walk through the muddy streets, but the bakery soon comes in sight. It has a very small infrastructure, but I guess that's part of their style to attract more customers. No one's there now though as I can tell looking through the window, so no one's there to see me enter the shop. The bell chimes cheerily above, which almost prompts me to roll my eyes in annoyance hearing it.

At the counter of this small bakery lies a woman, who I'm assuming is in her mid-sixties. She appears to be checking something off her clipboard that she holds. She doesn't notice me because of this, so I start to ring the bell loudly on the counter to get her attention.

"Excuse me," I say.

The lady shoots her head up in confusion before seeing me, probably shocked that someone actually came in.

"Oh! Customers!" the lady says happily, "pleasure to meet you."

She lends out a hand and I shake it just a bit before getting back to business.

"I just want some bread please," I say.

"I'm sure you do with that hungry faces of yours!" she says smiling, "coming right up."

The lady then quickly vanishes behind a curtain leading to what I guess is the kitchen.

Her words kind of ticks me off considering I look very _much_ healthy and not at all bare-boned, but I don't take much thought to it. Knowing she won't back here for a while considering _her_ age, I decided to sit down at one of the booths they set up and stare out the window.

It's quite gloomy outside, which makes a lot of district seven look miserable and dark. Not surprising considering today is the infamous reaping day that everyone is dreading, so it makes sense that with this bad weather would come a bad event.

In my honest opinion though, I really don't care anymore about how awful and brutal the games are. Being an eighteen-year-old can do that to you in the outer districts, where the reapings might be considered a death sentence. To a twelve-year-old child, it's the most terrifying thing to go through, but to a teenager like myself, you eventually just don't really care about the reaping.

If it wasn't for my little sister Nymeria, I wouldn't have had much to worry about this year other then to get through my last reaping. However, the world doesn't work like that. It's quite sad to be honest, knowing her first time going through this event will be my last. I'll support her of course since we're sisters, but she's already freaking out at home about it, and mom's doing all she can to calm her down

I wish I could help her a little bit more, even if It is doing something as simple as getting bread for all of us, but it seems like no matter what I do, Nymeria is always on edge. Ever since last year when she turned twelve, she's been acting this way. Constantly worried, waking from nightmares all the time. It's not hard to believe, but she really is terrified of the idea of her being reaped.

I don't blame her really, but I still wish she wouldn't be so horrified by the idea of the games.

"Your order!" a woman calls.

The woman's voice quickly brings me back to my senses, and I hurry over to the counter to see what she had propped up for me.

Behind the counter, the woman holds an almost perfect looking loaf of goldish brown bread, radiating with warmth. My stomach growls at the sight of it, and the soothing smell coming from the kitchen behind the counter doesn't make it any easier to not think of devouring the bread.

I shake my head though and quickly stare back at the lady in order to not give in to any temptations of eating the delicious looking food that the woman holds.

"How much is it?" I ask.

The lady quickly tells me the price, and I just as quickly pay her what she needs so I can grab the bread. When I pick it up, I feel the bread carefully. It was radiating with heat and smelled amazing. It certainly would be occupied when we all ate it at home.

I thank the lady and walk out of the bakery, walking through the muddy streets of district seven once again.

It's quiet outside as I walk. All the people I saw from earlier are either gone or just starting to leave the stores with their bought items. Other then that, there's not much to look at as I make my way home unless I want to count the number of trees that line the street again.

Still though, I walk silently and keep my thoughts reserved as I make my way home. I actually make it quite far before I catch sight of the justice building.

There it stands, tall and proud surrounded by dominating trees that enclose the space. It seems so peaceful there, and yet I cringe just watching peacekeepers set it up. I want to walk on, but I can't stop staring at the scene in front of me.

I can just imagine everyone that will be packed around here in the next few hours. Families weeping, siblings crying, maybe friends shedding a few tears. Once that reaping starts, someone's like is going to end.

Luckily for me, whoever gets picked today won't be any of my concern. Even if someone does die, all I know is that once today is done, I no longer have to worry about those stupid reapings anymore.

* * *

 _Boris Axelman – 16 Years Old_

 _District 7 Male_

* * *

My hands feel sore.

I flex and move my fingers from time to time in an attempt to get rid of the discomforting feeling, but nothing I do seems to work. They continue to throb in irritation, which is starting to annoy me. It's already bad enough to be at the reaping, but having to stand there while my hand's ache is just as frustrating as hearing the mayor deliver his speech again.

Thankfully, the reapings themselves are almost over. The longest past is to wait to see if everyone is checked in and present during the time of the event, but this year it didn't take very long until everyone showed up. After that, it's a fairly quite short process, the mayor gives a speech, escort introduces themselves and picks out the slips, anthem blares, and boom the reaping is done.

"Should be easy enough," as my sister usually says.

Unfortunately, in the real world, nothing comes easy, as is the same case with this reaping. The mayor takes a little longer to finish with what should be a one-minute speech as he starts to add personal details about how excited he is for the games, and the victors take a while to get settled since one of them starts to complain about their wet seat. In fact, it's really only the escort who seems to be keeping up with the pace of the event, as he quickly gets through his welcome speech to make up for the lost time.

"I won't waste the details on this particular event since it's always the same," the escort says, "so how about we just start calling the names."

While the escort shuffles through the slips in the bowl, I peer over to the girl's section to catch sight of Pine. Even though she's only fourteen, she's taken tesserae so many times that she practically has thirty slips already. I'm definitely worse in terms of slips as well, I think I have at least sixty, but I still can't help but worry for her.

The escort keeps shifting through slips until he eventually finds the one he looks for. I don't even have time to worry if it's Pine or not because he quickly opens the slips and calls out the name.

"Willow Jentsen is our lucky winner!" he says.

I can hear someone's screams in the background, possibly her sister or mom when the girl was called. As for me, relief floods through my body after hearing those words, knowing that Pine is safe, even if it is for only another year. As long as she's not picked I'm okay with whoever else has to get sent.

The girl in question is eighteen, and she seems really pissed off at where she is right now. She walks down the lane toward the stage without much fear, and when the escort tries to talk to her, she just ignores him and stares into the crowd.

She seems resilient at least, but that can only get you so far in a horror show as the hunger games.

"Now it's time for our boy tribute!" the escort says.

His hands dig into the bowl without hesitation and quickly pull out a slip before anyone can really process what had happened. All of the boys around me hold their breath as they watch him unfold it. It's like a horror movie watching him straighten out the wrinkled paper, like a knife about to plunge into a head for the fatal blow.

The escort smiles for a moment before telling us who is on the slip.

"Boris Axelman!" he calls.

There is a shot of panic that goes through my heart, which quickly vanishes and is replaced with bitter anger. This is one of those moments when someone should be screaming, those moments where the child reaped cries and tries to run away. It's always this moment that kids in district seven have nightmares about every day.

For me though? My mouth stays glued shut.

Before the peacekeepers come to collect me like they usually do with reaped kids, I step out of my section and walk towards the stage. I watch the huge cameras planted on stage follow me as I walk, wanting to see some type of reaction escape from me. In response, I just shrug to show everyone watching that I don't really care. There really isn't much time to think about anything that happened until my feet land on the final steps leading to the stage and take their place alongside Willow.

The escort does one of those shiny fake smiles to act like he's excited and addresses himself to the crowd to introduce us.

I just mute out everything he says, because right now, i'm just trying to figure out what my strategy should be from now on. It's almost funny, just a few seconds ago I was calculating how long Willow would last in the arena, and now I'm practically in the same boat as her. Was this what it was like for other tributes as well? How many times have tributes sized up other children's chances before being selected themselves? Did they feel shocked? Angry? Perhaps even happiness?

Whatever the case may be, right now I'm in the same place as so many of those past tributes before me. Soon I'll be shipped off onto a train, eventually ally and fight in an arena with twenty-three other tributes who's thirst for going home are just as great as mine, and probably die a horrible death like thousands of others before me.

My chances are certainly slim, but I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I have a home to get back to, and no one is going to stop me.

* * *

 _Willow Jentsen – 18 Years Old_

 _District 7 Female_

* * *

Cold light raindrops drip onto my nose, sending shivers tingling down my spine whenever one lands on my skin.

It's been drizzling all day, giving district seven a sort of gloomy look to it. Fitting considering today is the reaping and everyone is on edge right now at the square. I don't really blame them, as waiting to see who's selected for the games is an agonizing wait, especially since the rain is creating mud under most of our boots.

I still remember the dread I felt coming into the square where everyone was mostly gathered. Nymeria, being twelve, needed help being calmed down by my mom and me. Her eyes were full of tears and worry that I couldn't help but feel fear for her. But as I settled into my spot with the rest of the eighteen-year-olds, I couldn't help but worry about my situation as well.

What if I'm picked? I'm eighteen so it's fairly possible, but how could it be me? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to storm out of the reaping, go home and slip In between my bedsheets, but instead, I have to wait out here in the cold until that reality actually happens. You'd think the mayor or the capitol would schedule the reaping on a day that isn't so chilly and cold, but I guess they decided to have fun with their little slaves this year.

It's even twice as sickening when you realize just how long the mayor is taking with that stupid speech, which is usually done in about fifty seconds or so in other districts at least. Then the victors take there sweet ass time before sitting down because "water" is on one of their chairs for some reason.

When the escort finally comes out, I'm almost ready to collapse in relief, and it seems the escort wants to weep as well with how long everything took. I'm actually curious to know how the other districts reaping went. Did they go on for as long as this? Hopefully, so we don't look completely out of place when the recaps come on.

"Hello everyone," the escort calls, "I'm Leo, you're escort this year, and I'm very excited to introduce to you all the ninetieth hunger games!"

Everyone stays silent, causing Leo to squirm a bit up at the microphone.

"I won't waste the details on this particular event since it's always the same," the escort says, "so how about we just start calling the names."

Leo steps up and sticks his hand in the bowl to pick out a name. I watch carefully as he shifts and moves away some of the slips until he grabs something and pulls it out. Whoever's name is in that slip isn't going to be happy this year.

He unfolds the note and calls out the name.

"Willow Jentsen is our lucky winner!" he says.

I hear someone scream loudly in the background, and it's honestly hard to tell if it came from my sister's mouth or my own mouth. My heart beats rapidly, and I feel like I'm about to fall over and slam into the ground.

They actually picked me. I'm going into the games…

Wait! I can't be acting like this now. One sign of weakness and I'm done for. I have to show that I'm a capable tribute. I have to show everyone I'm not afraid, or else I'm never going to make it into the games.

Putting on a tough face, I walk out of my section and climb up onto the stage, which doesn't take long since the eighteen-year-old section is right at the front of the entire square. I ascend the steps and take my place next to the escort who smiles cheerfully at me. His stupid smile is almost enough to make me want to punch him, but I resist the urge and just try and block out the screams and shots from my sister.

"Now it's time for our boy tribute!" Leo says happily.

Leo then promptly digs his hand into the bowl and shuffles around a bit until he finds a slip he likes. This gives me enough time to consider thousands of potential district partners I might have. If the boy is younger than me, he would be completely useless in the games but be useful in getting me more sponsors. If he's stronger, then we could be allies and I can make him act as my shield. Sure it sounds inhumane to use someone like that, but anything to stay alive and not deal with these stupid games.

The escort pulls out a slip after a few seconds of searching, quickly opening it up and reading the name aloud.

"Boris Axelman!" he calls.

I look over toward the boy's side to see who my partner is going to be. From the commotion that's coming from the sixteen-year-old section, it seems as if this year's lucky winner is that age, and probably forgettable in every way. He comes walking out after a few seconds, shrugging to himself as if he's not walking into a complete death trap. "Like a lamb to the slaughter" as my mom used to say, only this time I'm one of the lambs as well this year.

He takes his place beside me and the mayor goes through with his speech. While he does this, I look over to my new "ally" to study him. All he wears is a neat brown polo shirt with some jeans that don't look too horribly made. He seems normal for the most part, but the games can change anyone in a heartbeat. I guess I'll just have to wait and see before I can somehow use him.

When the mayor is finished, the anthem starts to play and we all stand as the music starts to fill our ears. I can't help but stare at the crowd with bitter anger, seeing the eighteen-year-olds all sighing with relief and happiness. They all are safe forever now, no longer having to worry about the games. Now at least two children will get to die in their place, two children who don't have a chance.

Well, they have another thing coming. I'm not the strongest, or fastest, or even smartest person I know, but I'm going to win this thing. I'm going to get in there and destroy whatever competition I come across and make sure I get rid of it hard.

Sure, I don't know what I'm heading into at all. But I know for a fact is that there's no way I'm dying in there.

No way…

* * *

 **Since my birthday is coming up, I decided to be productive and work on this chapter which took a long time to finish. I'm mostly happy with how it turned out, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it.**

 **Thank you 2017tnt for Boris and santiago . poncini** _ **20 f**_ **or Willow** _ **. I hope I wrote them well enough in this chapter, and can't wait to write more about them.**_

 _ **Next up on our second pair of twins in this story from district eight! Hopefully, I can get it done soon and not bore you all with another two months with no updates.**_

 _ **Take Care**_

 _ **CandleFire45**_


	11. Chapter 11 - District 8 Reaping

_Paisley Flax – 16 Years Old_

 _District 8 Female_

* * *

I start gathering one side of my hair from the top of my ears to my temples.

When I'm done gathering it all to one side, I start loosely braiding the section of my hair. With a white ribbon my mother provided me, I secure it at the nape of my neck. I quickly tuck the ends so they're hidden well and don't stand out, and then I do the same thing for the other side of my hair. It's quite an easy and quick process that I don't have to linger on.

When I'm done with my hair, I look in the mirror to examine myself and see if I made any mistakes. Nothing appears to be noticeable at first, but the longer I look at myself, the more nervous I suddenly begin to feel. Maybe it's because the Reaping is today, or maybe it's because I didn't tuck in the loose strands just right enough.

It's weird to be doing my own hair now, I'm not quite used to the feeling of styling it with my own hands. It's like I've suddenly entered a whole new world of responsibility. I know it's just hair, but it's kind of weird for me to be the one caring for it.

When I was younger, my mom would do this for me since I didn't know how to style hair properly. I used to sit on her lap and sit as still as possible when she began her routine. Her hands were quick and swift, moving so fast that before I knew it she was already done. I don't know how she did it, but I think it's because she's been working with female clients for so many years in the shop that she knows how hair works just as much as clothes.

I think my mom enjoyed it when she did my hair. She was always humming to herself as she worked, smiling as she weaved my hair in and out with her hands. She seemed to really love doing it, which is one of the reasons I asked her to stop and let me do it this year. I still love my mother dearly, but sometimes she can be just a little bit too overbearing about things, especially when it comes to me and my brother Loden.

I stare in the mirror a little bit longer before gathering my reaping clothes and putting them on quickly. My clothes consist of a white cotton dress that falls to my knees, clinched to the waist and then flowing outward with puffed-up sleeves. I put on some nice-looking black flats for my feet, and my outfit is complete.

To be wearing something so formal right now, especially in District Eight where almost half the district looks like an ugly ruin feels odd to me. There's just something about standing there every year at the Justice Building wearing dresses and suits. Everyone stands out like a set of sore thumbs, glowing sore thumbs that shine in the sun.

Sometimes, when I'm really tired of all the smoke and smog in the sky produced by all the factories, I start to dream about living in District One. But then I always shake the thought away from my head because living in a career district sounds unbearable. Besides, I don't think Loden or anyone else in my family would be too happy living in a career district either. District Eight, whether I like it or not, is my home.

When I'm done getting dressed, I do a quick spin and inspect myself. Everything looks like it's in place. My hair's done, my dress is on. And yet I still feel like I'm missing something. I can't quite tell what it is, but I know it's something…

A stressed sigh escapes my lips as I quickly straighten everything out again. Despite my unease, I have to stay calm today. No matter how stressed I am, being worried during the reaping would put everyone into a heightened state of nervousness. I have to appear calm and collected, at least for my family's sake. I know mom would never let it go if she knew I was nervous…

Speaking of mom, I can hear her out in the kitchen preparing breakfast right now. The smell of whatever she's making is warm and toasty. It's entering my room right now, which means it's also entering my father's and Loden's rooms. Pretty soon they'll be barreling down the hallway trying to claim a seat at the table, and all of us will be joking around trying to lighten the mood.

I better finish up and get there if that's going to happen though,

After a bit more time, I finally finish up and enter into the hall outside. Everyone's doors are closed, but a nice snapping smell exits from the kitchen. I have no idea what mom is making, but whatever it smells amazing enough to make my stomach growl. She must be working hard on it since the pot and pans are clanking a lot out there.

I make my way out of the hall and into the dining room of the house, where I notice that the table has been already prepared with plates and cups for everyone. Nothing is on those plates yet, but they shine because of that. The dining room has a clear view of the kitchen, where I see a certain someone as the stove doing their best to arrange everything,

Instead of seeing the gorgeous brown locks of my mother flying around the kitchen, I see the clean wavy hair of my brother as he stands near the stove preparing… something.

I'm honestly quite surprised and amused seeing my brother attempt to cook. He's usually really smart, and can usually crack down problems like it's nobody's business. But give him a pan and something to stir the water with and he looks just as lost as a butterfly in a parade. He once tried to follow the path of being a chef a few years ago, and while the result of his meal wasn't bad, it was leagues under our mother's usual quality of food.

It's funny to see him attempt to cook, but also kind of touching when remembering what day it is.

Seeing him in one of his concentrated states, I attempt to back away back to my room when he suddenly turns around. I don't know how he noticed me, but he makes eye contact with me. His eyes widen at me before he quickly turns away to turn down the oven heat.

"M-morning Paisley!" he stutters, "d-did I wake you?"

His nervous tone almost makes me chuckle a bit in reply.

"Nope," I answer, "I just got up a bit ago from a couple of birds outside."

Even though he has his head turned around now, I can tell that he's rolling his eyes when I say that.

"You sure that was all that woke you?" he says.

"Well," I start, "if you're asking if your noisy cooking skills interrupted my beauty sleep, then no, Loden, they didn't."

My ears detect a quick sigh escaping Loden's mouth.

"Good, at least I can breathe easy knowing that now."

He quickly grabs a big spoon and starts to stir whatever is inside the pot. He focuses right back into it, without even blinking an eye. Usually with anyone else that would be a signal to end the conversation. But for me, I usually just ignore it and try to make more small talk.

"Did you sleep well, Loden?" I ask.

He barely bats an eye off of the dish he's making as he answers.

"Well, I slept as well as I could get knowing that the Reaping is today," he answers casually.

A slight chill goes down my spine from his mentioning the Reaping alone, but I attempt to pass it off as quickly as I can.

"At least it's for a day," I reply. "Then we won't have to worry about it for another year."

"There's still the games we have to watch though," he mentions, "not looking forward to that either…"

The same chill comes back again, only this time I can't suppress it and I start to shake in my dress.

"Yeah, that's bad as well," I say. "But at least it won't be us in there."

Loden stops stirring for just a moment before looking back at me,

"Well, how could you know that for sure?" Loden responds.

A bit of time passes before I respond, and it's honestly really difficult coming up with a reply. I'm definitely not sure if we'll be selected this year or not, but somehow, there's just a certain part of me that is sure we won't be.

"I just have a feeling, you know?" I explain, "Like a positive feeling that you know for sure is going to happen."

I look over to Loden to see him still stirring away in the pot, but now he looks slightly bit more relaxed.

"It doesn't sound too crazy, I guess," he responds. "So hopefully your feeling is right."

"You know it usually is," I say, beaming with a smile.

He rolls his eyes again before he finally finishes stirring

"Okay then, can you tell me what you feel about this dish?" he asks.

I happily oblige to Loden's request and move toward him to inspect the dish he's preparing for everyone. It's bright red tomato stew, which is filled with some bobbing carrots inside for extra nutrition.

Even though he's no cooking master, it honestly looks kind of edible. But of course I can't let him know that, so I take a cautious approach to it.

"It looks passable…" I say.

A confused look enters his eyes.

"Really? Is it that bad?" he says.

"Oh no, it totally looks okay," I say, "it's just that it looks way too red. And you may have overdone it with the carrots a bit. And there might be too much water in there."

Loden quickly covers his eyes with his hands and sighs deeply while shaking his head.

"Now I know to never take advice from Lupica Reeds cookbooks," he says.

Despite his answer, he grabs the pot and pours it into the four bowls nearby anyway. The red liquid rushed into the pans, as the carrots quickly disappear under its surface before bobbing back up again. The orange little bits of vegetables glisten in the stew, shining brightly as if they were cut recently.

"You think mom would approve it?" he asks.

We both stare at the steaming bowls for a bit before we start to giggle at the thought of mom seeing it.

* * *

 _Loden Flax – 16 Years Old_

 _District 8 Male_

* * *

I wake up as the sun's brilliant light shines through my window.

It's a magnificent sight, with the golden rays shooting through the glass, scattering all over my bedroom floor. Heat radiates off the light, giving me a pleasant feeling of satisfaction and comfort. In its light, I can see dust particles floating around, creating swirls of patterns and dances to keep my emerald eyes occupied. It truly is an amazing sight to behold.

Paisley would probably adore looking at this. Seeing the orange and gold of the sun mix together to shine inside my room. Sadly, she's stuck two bedrooms away from me, facing away from the rising sun. Her window points toward the backyard, while mine stares out into the front where a little row of houses stands. Some of the houses are our neighbors', and I know some of them pretty well.

Despite living in the smoggy-filled world of District Eight, the neighborhood we live in isn't too bad. The clouds are still brown and ugly, but everything else looks okay. From the green little plants that dot neighbors front yards, to the glistening paint on some of our houses, everything looks pretty good, all things considered. Staying in this place could almost make you forget you were living in a factory filled wasteland.

When I stare outside the window, I find no one else out greeting the day. Why would they during a time like this? They all must be dreading it just like me. When it's Reaping day, people my age usually always dread it since it could be their year. So everyone must be staying in until the "big hour" as my dad likes to say. If only that hour wasn't so horrifying for everyone.

No one else is up in the house yet, or at least, I don't think so. It's hard to tell with the thick walls we have between our rooms. Someone could be screaming at the top of their lungs, and in another room, it could sound like a tiny mouse squeaking.

I hop out of bed when I'm done staring outside and immediately start getting ready. The Reaping isn't until a couple of hours, but it's better to be prepared earlier rather than rushing at the last second. I head over to my wardrobe where my reaping outfit waits for me. I spent a big chunk of last night preparing it so no time would be wasted when I woke up.

It's quite simple really, just a white button-down shirt with ironed brown slacks. I also get a nice little bowtie that fits with the dark brown color of my dress shoes. There's no time wasted at all, and before I know it I'm already brushing my hair, trying to make it not look like a train wreck. It's hard to get it the way I want since there's always almost that one piece of hair that just won't cooperate with the brush. Eventually, it stays down and I move onto brushing my teeth.

Everything has to be perfect for today since it's the Reaping. We're essentially required to dress nice, look nice, and be nice above all else. If anything other than those three things happens during the Reaping then the peacekeepers are going to have some problems. I never would plan to break the rules in the first place, but the peacekeepers are inclined to remind us all the time.

Then, once they established their rules, we have to stand around for a bit as the mayor introduces herself and the victors. Then she makes a little speech before the escort finally comes out and reaps the poor unfortunate souls to take tribute in the games. Then it all ends, and we're subjected to watch it all on national television.

It's a sick twisted thing that happens every year, and yet there's no way we can stop it. It's upsetting, but what is there to do? Fight back? We tried that, but look what happened instead. Run away? We'd be hunted down instantly by the capitol.

I wish this wasn't our reality. But it is, and I live in it. My entire family lives in it. And there's nothing we can do.

I'm suddenly back in the real world when I feel my hands start to hurt from gripping onto the toothbrush. I quickly relax my hand and start washing away all the paste from my mouth and toothbrush. It takes very little time, and before long I'm simply staring at myself in the mirror wondering what to do now.

There's usually nothing you can do this early in the morning except sit around and marvel about how pretty the sky looks. But in this house there's always something that needs to be done. Like cleaning, or cooking, or running our shop.

Since the house is pretty much spotless, and the shop is closed for today, I think it's best to try and make some breakfast for everyone by the time they get up. I've got some experience with cooking, even if it is very minor and most of my family agreed that my mom should be the one cooking instead.

It's something to do, at least until the reaping bell finally tolls.

* * *

 _Paisley Flax – 16 Years Old_

 _District 8 Female_

* * *

Today, all the factories are shut down.

It's weird to see nothing functioning in the district as my family and I walk down the road toward the Reaping. There are no black pillars of smoke billowing out of the machines, nor are there any sparks or engine noises churning out behind closed doors. Everything is dead quiet as we walk, which is slightly uncomfortable for me.

Mom and Dad don't seem to notice how dead everything around us is since they both just talk to each other silently. Loden doesn't seem to mind either, as he walks along, humming the tune of a song that I don't recognize. He seems content singing it, which is good because the last thing I want for my brother to feel is stress right now. I wish I had something to calm me down, but the closer we get to the square, the more nervous I begin to feel.

We get closer to the square until eventually, the Justice Building comes into view. In District Eight, the Justice Building is a horrid sight, and not only because it's the place where the Reaping is held. The building itself is in better shape than the factories, but it's still quite dirty. Dead vines surround some pillars, and bits and pieces of grass grow in the cracks of the windows. It matches in nicely with the rest of the ugly scenes of the district, properly-being the mighty set piece of all of it as well.

There are a lot of families near the Justice Building waiting to get their fingers pricked. A couple of kids go straight in line when they arrive, while others mingle and chat with everyone else before the peacekeepers start forcing them to check in. Despite the current situation, everyone seems surprisingly calm.

I do a quick scan around the crowd, but find none of my friends are nearby. They either must've gone in without me or are hiding somewhere.

"Okay, so, Loden and Paisley, you know the drill for the Reaping right?" Mom asks when we get closer. "I don't need to remind you what to do?"

"Stick together and go to your designated sections when your blood is drawn…" Loden starts.

"Pay attention to the Reaping and then meet you guys at the shop when it's all done," I finish.

"Okay, good," she says, "Do you remember-"

"Mom, Loden and I will be just fine," I cut her off quickly. "We've been doing this for five years now. I'm pretty sure we can handle it."

Mom doesn't seem so sure, and only backs off when Dad holds her hand reassuringly.

"They'll be okay, honey," he says.

"We promise Mom," I say. "You don't have to worry about us."

Mom hesitates for a split second before hugging both me and Loden goodbye.

When we're all done, Loden and I quickly head into the line to get our blood drawn. It's a really long line, and it takes a full three minutes before me and Loden finally get to the front.

Before it's Loden's turned to get in, we both hug each other for good luck.

"See you soon," I say, "and stay safe or else mom will kill me,"

"I'll try," he says, "I tend to stay out of trouble anyway."

With that out of the way, he quickly gets his blood drawn and sent to his section. I quickly go up next and tell the very huge looking peacekeeper my name. They draw my blood then I take my place over with all the other sixteen-year-old girls.

No one talks for a while as we wait for everyone to file into their sections. I just stand there quietly while attempting to make small talk with the girl next to me, who seems even more freaked out than me. I teach her a little tune that someone taught me, and she and I sing it together until she's calm enough to breathe normally.

A few more minutes pass before Nadia Mormon, the mayor of District Eight, walks out. She does the normal introduction about how exciting this year's Hunger Games are going to be, and then she reads the required speech that almost every district mayor reads.

Then the victors are introduced, and everyone goes silent as they both stand up.

All eyes are on Calico Cruz, who stands there looking down on the rest of us. It's hard not to look at him if you're from District Eight and know his history. Even I know it a little bit too well if I'm being honest. I still remember his gruesome kills during his time in the arena. It makes me just shudder thinking about the things he did.

After the victors are introduced, they quickly sit down and the escort comes waltzing out. This year, it's a really tall thin man, who has wild black hair and wears a sparkly green suit. Honestly, he looks way more suited to escort any other district then eight, but he doesn't seem to really mind the district he's in and gives a smile as continues the Reaping.

"Hello, everyone!" the escort said. "It's so nice to be seeing you all here today! Especially considering how smoggy it is outside…"

Everyone just stares at the escort, which causes him to adjust his tie. Maybe he's nervous.

"I um, I-I guess we shouldn't delay now," the escort continues. "Let's get the Reaping started shall we?"

The strange feeling in my stomach returns again as I watched the escort sticks his hand into the girl's bowl. All of us were silent, holding our breath, waiting for the slip to be found. I think one girl beside me was holding my hand to maintain balance, and I didn't dare let go of hers either. It felt as if no one was breathing at all, even some of the boys weren't.

The escort found a slip. On it contained a name. Whoever's chosen will either be completely devastated or try to maintain their cool. I don't know if I could ever calm down if I was the one chosen, especially since-

"The female tribute for District Eight is Paisley Flax," the escort announced.

Everyone goes quiet now.

For a moment, I'm speechless. Which is terrifying because I always found myself being able to say something even in a horrible situation. My skin turns pale white, and everything starts to become blurry. I think the girl beside me has let go of my hand now, I can't really tell. Am I moving? Maybe, I feel my legs walking back and forth toward the stage.

I pass by so many people I know on my way up, even passing by some of my friends who all shoot sad looks for me. They can tell, right? I'm going to die. They all know that. That's why they're staring at me like that. I wish they wouldn't write me off so quickly, but right now I barely feel confident in myself at all. I'm going into the literal bloodbath this year.

I barely even notice that I'm standing on the stage until the voice of the escort suddenly booms right beside me.

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" the escort says.

No one even glances at the stage.

In this situation, the best thing you could do is try and stay calm. But right now I feel like throwing up, or passing out, or doing whatever other tributes do on stage when they're nervous.

My family can't be doing any better than I am. I bet my mother is screaming as Dad tries to calm her down. Loden must be shocked, or at least angry. I wish I was with them, but I'll have a chance to meet them again when we say goodbye. That will be the last time I'll ever see them…

"Let's see which lucky lad gets paired up with this young lady," the escort exclaims. "Boys, you're up next!"

My attention turns over to the escort now as his hand digs around in the boy bowl. Loden's name is somewhere in there along with all those other slips. Oh god, if he was chosen alongside me, I don't think I could ever forgive this world. Please, let it be someone else, anyone else but Loden…

The escort grabs a slip and quickly unfolds it. I try to see whose name is written on it, but he calls it out before I can register then handwriting.

"Oh wow! What an extremely lucky duo we have this year!" the escort says. "Loden Flax is entering as this year's male tribute for District Eight!"

And that's when time suddenly stops. For thirteen years straight I've sat through these Reapings, and the likelihood that a pair of siblings would be reaped together was always close to zero percent. Sure, sometimes other siblings volunteer to help their brother or sister, but they were never reaped! It was always a choice to join them, never a necessity!

Yet there I was, watching my pale-faced brother quietly climb the steps and take his place for slaughter.

"N-No!" I shout. "T-there must be a mistake!"

"The card does not lie, sweetie," the escort says. "Anyway, District Eight I give you your-"

"W-wait! You have to ask for volunteers!" I cry out. "Please! Someone, you have to volunteer for him! Please!"

I scan the crowd, looking for anyone who might be willing to volunteer and save my brother. No one even glances at the stage. Everyone looks away, either out of guilt or because they just don't care enough.

This can't be real…

"As I was saying," the escort continues. "I present you your tributes of District Eight! Paisley and Loden Flax!"

Everyone claps, but I can see in their eyes none of them really want to. They look like they're about to throw up right now, just like me. I think I might've to if it wasn't for Loden holding my hand and reminding me where I was right now.

Either one of us gets to go home, or we'll both die together in the arena. Both sound equally bad, but right now I can't think about that.

We'll both just have to take it one step at a time now…

* * *

 _Loden Flax – 16 Years Old_

 _District 8 Male_

* * *

Am I scared of the Reaping?

Well, yes but also, kind of no. It's not like I'm ever excited for it to happen, but I also don't painfully dread it like so many other people do. My sister is terrified of the Reaping entirely, but I'm not like her. I don't fear the Reaping. At least, not in the sense where I keep thinking about it over and over again. I like my mind to wander instead of focusing on one topic. And focusing on one topic like the Reaping can get really depressing sometimes.

Which is why I switch my train of thought to focus on my surroundings instead. I take a look around and find Paisley walking beside me, twirling her fingers around. Our parents are behind us, talking about our little celebration dinner. Around us are other families, each differing in size and members.

I don't know any of the families personally, but I make an effort to pay attention to any striking details they have. One family travels with four children. Another has a total of seven kids with them. The family in front of us has three teenage girls, all of them identical besides their hair color. Behind us is a dark-skinned family with a baby and what appears to be an eleven-year-old boy.

Despite the numerous difference, all the families have in terms of appearance, I know that all of them must be emotionally terrified right now. The feeling of terror must grow inside them when the Justice Building comes in sight. It looms there like a tomb, awaiting for any explorers who would dare enter it.

Everyone gets quiet as we make it to the big crowd waiting to get their blood drawn. There are hundreds of people here. Way too many to count.

"Okay, so, Loden and Paisley, you know the drill for the Reaping right?" Mom asks when we get closer. "I don't need to remind you what to do?"

"Stick together and go to your designated sections when your blood is drawn…" I start.

"Pay attention to the Reaping and then meet you guys at the shop when it's all done," Paisley finishes.

Mom has made Paisley and I memorize those rules so many times that it's practically imprinted in our brains.

"Okay, good," she says. "Do you remember-"

Before Mom can finish what's she going to say, Paisley quickly cuts her off.

"Mom, me and Loden will be just fine," she replies. "We've been doing this for five years now. I'm pretty sure we can handle it."

Despite Paisley's reassuring answer, Mom is still unsure if she wants to leave us alone or not. This happens sometimes when we're at the Reaping, with one of us eventually having to convince. This year, it's Dad who is the one to calm her down. Mom always listens to him, even when he sometimes, though rarely, is wrong.

"Just stay safe you two," Mom says, giving us both big hugs before she lets us go.

When we're done saying goodbye, we enter the line for the Reaping. There are a ton of kids waiting for their blood to be drawn, so Paisley and I talk for a bit and crack some jokes as the number of kids starts to get smaller and smaller. Some are young and put up a fight, while others are older and get by so fast that you question if they were even there.

When it's my turn to go up, Paisley and I share one last goodbye hug.

"See you soon," she says, "and stay safe or else mom will kill me."

The chances of Paisley dying by our mother's hands was probably ten thousand to one, but I guess anything's possible, so I agree.

"I'll try," he says, "I tend to stay out of trouble anyway."

She nods with a huge sigh of relief, which makes me smile a bit before I head on ahead to get my blood drawn. I've done this five times before, so I'm in and out like it's nothing and quickly heading to my section with all the other boys. None of them speak to me, and I don't bother trying to spark any conversation, so I just go on humming some tunes I learned to pass the time.

A bit of time passes before the mayor finally comes out and gives her the required speech. She talks about the history of the games, previous victors, the great war that happened hundreds of years ago. Her speech stays mostly the same as all the other previous years she's done this, and soon the surviving victors start walking out.

District Eight isn't the best place to look at when it comes to the number of victors we have, but we do still have a considerable lineup. Currently, they're three victors alive in District Eight, with the most recent victor being Poppy Hadley two years ago. Out of the three victors we have, Cecelia Sanchez is the oldest one alive so far. While the most famous victor we have in District Eight is Calico Cruz, who is mostly known for the amount of people he killed in a brutal fashion during his games.

All of them are completely different in appearance and personality, but somehow they all survived through each other's mentorship.

The victors then sit down once they're introduced and finally the escort comes out. He looks normal for the most part, but he wears such an off-putting green suit that it makes me want to gag. It shines in the sun, almost blinding me due to how bright it is.

"Hello, everyone!" the escort said. "It's so nice to be seeing you all here today! Especially considering how smoggy it is outside…"

Nobody says anything to his comment.

"I um, I-I guess we shouldn't delay now," the escort continues. "Let's get the Reaping started shall we?"

Everyone in the girl's section stops moving as soon as the escort puts his hand in the bowl. Slips fly widely inside it, each containing the name of a single girl. Once he takes a slip out, someone here is not going to be coming back. I just pray that it's not Paisley.

The escort grabs a slip. My throat starts to feel dry. As long as it's not Paisley, I'll be fine. Please, just let it not be my sister. As long as it's not her everything will be-

"The female tribute for District Eight is Paisley Flax," the escort announced.

I think someone just punched me in my face, because now I'm falling over in shock. It happens so fast that nobody around me notices until I bump into another boy behind me. Any air that was in my body is gone now as I watch my sister being forced to walk to her certain death. She's going into the Hunger Games…

I never thought I would ever be saying that sentence, but here I am.

The escort asks for volunteers, but no one steps up. It makes sense why they wouldn't, but I'm still horrified that not even a single girl looks my sister's way. All of them are either too ashamed to look or fear that looking at her might cause them to give in. No one, not even her closest friends say anything as the escort shrugs and start searching through the boy's slips

I'm not paying attention though, because all I can see is my sisters face. She's definitely horrified right now, but she's trying so hard to hide it from everyone else. I can see it though, the terror on her face. When you've lived with someone for sixteen years, you know when they're in distress from one simple glance, and I can tell that my sister is feeling more than just distress right now.

How in the world will I get through these few weeks without her? We've almost never been apart, and now she's going to go into the hunger games of all places! What kind of world-

"Oh wow! What an extremely lucky duo we have this year!" the escort interrupts. "Loden Flax is entering as this year's male tribute for District Eight!"

Twenty-three words. That's all it takes for my heart to stop beating, for my lungs to stop breathing. Everything in the world just stops, because of those twenty-three words the escort just said. Somehow, out of the hundreds of thousands of boys that live in this district, somehow I was the one that got chosen. Not to mention, out of everyone in this district, I got chosen along with my own sister.

The odds are so completely improbable that I didn't even bother to think of it becoming a reality. Yet here we are, with my sister on the stage, and my name being called.

Is it selfish of me to be terrified right now? Even though my sister is up there, is it so wrong for me to be more terrified of losing my life more than her? It's all happening so fast that I can't even question the morality of the situation, and yet I'm thinking of my own life rather than my sister…

I don't feel like I can move, but somehow I find the strength to make my way toward the stage. I can't even glance at my sister because I know she must be just as terrified as me. I think of speaking to her, trying to calm her down in some way, but nothing comes to mind at all. I have nothing else to say anymore.

But Paisley does.

"N-No!" Paisley shouts. "T-there must be a mistake!"

I can see the escort roll his eyes in annoyance.

"The card does not lie, sweetie," the escort says. "Anyway, District Eight I give you your-"

"W-wait! You have to ask for volunteers!" she cries out, "please! Someone, you have to volunteer for him! Please!"

I don't have to look at the crowd to know that nobody even attempts to raise their hand. They didn't for my sister, so why would it be different with me? It wouldn't, and now me and her are going into the games together…

"As I was saying," the escort continues. "I present you your tributes of District Eight! Paisley and Loden Flax!"

The crowd gives a half-hearted clap in response, but I don't pay any attention to them now. All I know is that me and my sister are stuck in the games, and there is no way out for us anymore. Either one of us win, or we both die. Both choices are equally bad in all honesty, but there's nothing else we can do.

I hold my sister's hand tight, and she grips onto mine as well.

We're both going to the games.

And those words alone terrify me.

* * *

 **Yeah... this update schedule is really inexcusable.**

 **Sorry for being gone for five months. I was mostly preparing for High school, in which most of my classes require a lot of stuff. I'm going to try and keep writing the next reaping chapters, but with school starting, it might take even longer until the next update. Again, sorry for the absence. Honestly, I realize now that these authors notes are just me apologizing for my long absence. Man...**

 **Anyway, I hoped you guys liked Paisley and Loden from call me calamity. This is our second set of twins, and I had a blast writing them! Our next stop on this freaking year long journey is District 9! See you guys then!**

 **Take Care**

 **CandleFire45**


	12. Chapter 12 - District 9 Reaping

_Solder Rye - 14 Years Old_

 _District 9 Male_

* * *

By the time we make it to the lake, my hands and legs start to burn like crazy.

The rough oak wood we've traversed across has sent deep cuts into my hand, turning the whole thing red. And the sharp rocks that litter the ground had bruised and pierced my feet. It thankfully doesn't hurt or anything, but it's just a little irritating. I don't mind it that much though. It's just a few bruises that will fade over time. Nothing to freak out over. What I should be freaking out over is if this branch is large enough to support both me and Sara's weight. While I'm barely making my way over to the end of it, she stands at the edge taking everything in, trying her best not to let go off the beam of wood supporting her. She has such a gleeful smile on her face, giddy full of excitement about what's the come.

Her excitement mirrors mine perfectly. Coming from district nine, there isn't much chance to do anything special. But today, all that changes. We're trying to get to Knobu lake. It's some ancient place that Miya Hort was talking up a few days ago. She says it's somewhere near the fence of the district, covered behind a patch of clustered trees and grass. If you follow the trail in this patch and climb a few trees to the top hills, you should be able to find it. Once you make it there, there's this hidden lake you can go swimming in. While not everyone at school believes it, me and Sara didn't want to take any chances.

So here we are, atop a huge tree with most of our clothes stained. We were lucky enough to dodge anyone we knew along the way to this supposed "paradise", and now we're almost there. Just one jump across this branch and we make it.

Piers is already on the other side when Sara makes a jump for it. She flies for a few seconds before landing perfectly onto the ground across from me. Piers cheers for her when she makes it, just like he always does.

"And she sticks the landing!" she calls out, laughing as she turns around.

Her clothes are in ruins now, the red blouse and shorts she decided to wear are stained in dirt and sweat. Fortunately for her, it's not her reaping outfit. That is tucked away somewhere in her closest safe and sound.

She brushes off some of the dirt stuck to her skin before looking up at me.

"You coming slowpoke?" she asks in an amused tone.

I squirm my way toward the middle of the branch where she is, trying my best not to look down.

"In a second grandma," I say in response, "I'm getting my footing just right to top that jump of yours."

She rolls her eyes but still laughs.

I look down again and breathe in. Just one shot. Don't mess it up.

I start by counting up to three.

 _One..._

 _Two..._

"Well?" Sara says.

 _Three!_

Before she can say anything else, I rush off the branch and fling myself off. For a second, there's no gravity. No restrictions. No laws. Just complete and utter freedom in my reach. And then reality sets in and I'm falling all over again. My feet crash onto the ground and I stumble into Sara's arms. She starts laughing as I do this, and so does Piers. And then suddenly I'm joining in because one of our laughs triggers everyone else's.

"Man, are you okay?" Sara says, swallowing in a few more giggles, "that landing sure didn't look okay."

"I'm fine!" I say cheerfully, "just a few scratches here and there."

"That was so cool!" Piers says, looking at us both in awe, "you looked like you were flying for a second!"

"Thanks, little man," I say, "you weren't so bad yourself."

"Really?!" he says, his eyes lighting up.

"Really," I say, quickly fist-bumping him.

His smile is so wide I can almost see his growing adult teeth. It's nice to see him like this. He's usually always quiet at school and in public, but whenever it's just us, he can be himself.

"Okay warriors," Sara said, "hold off the celebration. Let's wait until we find the lake first."

Piers and I brightly nod before Sara quickly takes the lead through this strange forest.

As we continue, I notice that the trees around us begin thinning out. So much so that I can see the sky above us. It's crystal clear, almost calming in a way. The shade of blue so distinct that I could never mistake it for anything else. It spans for billions of miles across the Earth, encasing everything in its blue glow. Somewhere far away from here, the stars replace this sky. But right now, right here, it's blue, and it's perfect, and it's amazing.

Somehow, it's all I can think about as we make our way over to the lake.

Before Sara even says anything I know we have made it to our destination. The air around us cools down, and the forest around us seems to come alive. It's lush, green, almost like a jungle. And in the center of it all is the lake. It's not as pretty as Miya made it out to be. It's still a lake, but it's mostly brown and foggy. A lot of roots from other trees dig into the center of the water, making the rest of the space small and cramped. There isn't much room to swim around in and it kind of looks like a waste pile

But I still smile anyway, because we found it.

"It's huge!" Piers says, running up to the edge of it.

"It's amazing..." Sara claims, running her hands across the surface.

"It's ours!" I yelled, rushing up the massive twisting roots entering into the lake.

For a long time, all any of us can do is smile and laugh at the discovery. The place is small and smells pretty bad, but it's so remote from anything in district nine that it's almost like discovering a long lost island. Secluded, alone, and almost paradise.

"We should mark it so others know we found it," Sara says, quickly picking up a branch.

She places it deep into the ground below us until it stays perfectly still.

"Now it just needs a flag," Piers says, "something bright so we can find our way back after the reaping."

He takes out a white handkerchief and ties it around the top of the stick. Because of the cool air silently blowing by, it begins to flap in the breeze, and it begins to glow in from the sun.

"Perfect," Sara says, "now this spot is ours forever."

"We'll come back after the reaping right?" Piers says.

As if the devil himself heard us, we hear the reaping bells start to play in the background.

"Oh no," I say," it's starting!"

"Mom is going to kill us if we don't make it back," Sara says.

"Then we better no keep her waiting," I say, "race you back!"

I quickly take off before Piers and Sara can even process my words, laughing as I make my way back to district nine. They quickly follow, and together, we head over for home.

* * *

 _Brianne Froyen – 15 Years Old_

 _District 9 Female_

* * *

Ms. Alba is out cleaning the flowerpots again.

She always does this during the week when she thinks no one else is up. So, every morning when the sun is barely above a sliver of light, she will go outside and start washing the pots from her garden. She tells my mother that she does this because she can't stand to see her lovely pots all dirty whenever she brings home new flowers for them, which doesn't make much sense to me. The point of flowerpots is to hold all that ugly brown dirt in it, so why clean it at all when it's the things job to be dirty inside? It's annoying to think about.

I'm thankful though that Ms. Alba does this though. Her routine has become like an alarm clock for both me and my mother. We never get to spend some alone time together during most of the day. We have to keep our distance from each other thanks to our situation. But whenever Ms. Alba's pots start clanking, me and mom get an early head start to do whatever we want. Of course, we would have to be quiet to not wake dad up, but it's still the best time of the day. I've grown accustomed to the sounds of running water and clanking metal that signal me our hour of freedom, so I'm already up and in the living room when our neighbor starts her routine.

None of the lights are on in the living room, and I don't dare turn them on since dad might wake up. He's really sensitive about everything, no matter what it. Lights being way too bright. The slight different taste in food. How someone sounds and talks to him. It's all just an annoyance to him he can't tolerate. Even my tan-colored dress that I have on could send him on a raging fit again if he so much as glances at it. But I can't help myself. It looks so pretty and perfect. The edges, the texture. Even the tan color brings off a soft glow. When the reapings start, everyone can see me in it, so I can't help but wear it.

The only imperfection I can find is the ones on my skin. The bruises that ruin the sight of the dress. They've started to heal since last week's beating, but they still hurt whenever I press too hard on them. It's bright red as well, and so plainly visible on my arm that it's grown to irritate me. I'm going to have to wear something like gloves that will cover those up during the reapings.

Just thinking about gloves brings me a sense of peace Gloves are nice and formal, they can cover up things you wouldn't want other people knowing while also looking amazing. Fingerprints. A gash or cut. Bruises. I'm thankful for gloves because now no one can notice them.

Footsteps suddenly sound from the hallway, and I look up to find mom wearing a nice-looking yellow dress. If it wasn't for the marks she has she would look so much prettier, but with the way our life is it's hard for her to maintain herself. My heart shudders whenever I see her sad, knowing what she goes through behind those closed bedroom doors. You could say at least I'm lucky. I get an entire separate bedroom from him.

Mom approaches me and hands me my jacket. I quickly put it on and roll down the sleeves so only my hand is visible. It's bright white ad a bit short, so I still look nice while we're out. When she's done putting her jacket on she quickly takes my hand. It hurts for a brief moment, but I ignore the feeling and exit out the back door with her as fast as I can. It's so scary, yet enthralling at the same time to be leaving the house without dad, since there are so little opportunities to even attempt it. The feeling of the wind, the smell of the air, my mother's hand holding mine. For the first time, we're both ready, and we run.

We pass by so many houses as we run in our boots, not even taking a glance at our home behind us. Dad won't be waking up for a while after last night's tantrum, giving us just enough time to have at least an hour for ourselves. That should be more than enough time for us.

Even as we run, we barely talk to each other, afraid that a single word might break the magical silence. We don't even say anything to Ms. Alba as we pass her house, although mom does give a small wave. I to also wave, but I have the strong urge to mouth a thank you to her. Even if she doesn't know, she's directly responsible for me and my mother's routine. And even if we never tell her, me and mom are always thankful. No matter what.

We quickly run away as fast as we can until we make it to the square, where we finally have to slow down. My breath feels like fire, my knees whine and groan, my arms begin to shake violently. It's been so long since I've run, and I love it. I love the feeling of pain not caused by someone, but by something natural. Not of a fist, but of my body just straining to keep up with the demands of blood and nutrients. It feels amazing to feel this way, even for just a moment.

I can tell mom is happy too, since she slightly smiles as she bends over panting. It's incredible how some days she changes like this. And whenever she changes for the better, it always makes me smile. For a while, she's okay, and I'm okay. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

When we calm down, we begin our walk together. Hand in hand, acting like things are normal. We parade around the square, glancing at shops that are just now opening their doors to citizens like us. They all have the same worried look in their eyes as they begin turning their signs, showing clear fear for the upcoming reaping today.

I shake my head wildly. I shouldn't be thinking about that now. Today is just about me and mom. Us walking together through the streets as we contemplate life. A life that I know she desperately wants to escape from.

We don't even say anything as we walk. We just observe life. All around us, there is life. And it's sad to see it, while also good to know it's there. I feel like it's been absent so long for us that maybe just now it could bring itself together again. Maybe just for us.

There are days when I wish, pray even for a better life then I have now. Of course, I work for it, in large fields of soil and grain. I work for it everyday, mom does too. But it's hard balancing so many things on your shoulders at once. It almost starts to feel like a giant metal ball trying to crush you. And every day I have to juggle it, over and over again to maintain some sort of meaning with my mom.

People don't understand. They never do. No matter how many times they see us, all they can think of is a perfect little family. Just the type of people you can have a cup of tea with and have a nice chat over the weather. None of them know behind the perfect house and the perfect clothes is something else. Something else much darker then they'd first thought.

I look at the victors houses and see how cushioned their lives are in there. It must be amazing to be treated like royalty, never having to worry about anything again. Yes, there are those awful games, but if only for a moment could I dream me and my mother in those houses together. Far away from dad.

Suddenly, I find myself squeezing my mother's hand.

"I love you," I say to her.

And when I say that, she doesn't even hesitate to answer back.

"I love you too."

* * *

 _Solder Rye - 14 Years Old_

 _District 9 Male_

* * *

Everything feels different once the reaping begins.

When you're walking through the district, there's always a sense of energy present. Shopkeepers yelling, citizens chatting, kids running around. Things are usually brighter. Streets are a bit cleaner. People are always working everywhere. Sure it's a bit mundane, but that's what the district is usually like. However, once the reaping month comes, everything changes. The once pleasant atmosphere that surrounded the district turns cold, and everyone's moods shifts into a sour aura. The change is so noticeable that multiple peacekeepers are sent out to patrol the area, ensuring that no little rebellion or tricks are being pulled by any of the citizens. It's kind of scary, but no one comments on it. No one dares to disobey them.

While we walk, I notice that the peacekeepers are carrying around weapons three times their size, walking around groups and staring directly at them to instill fear into their hearts. I can already tell it's working because of how tightly Piers is holding my hand. This is his first reaping. Me and Sara have been doing this for three years, but this is Piers first time. He told me last night he wasn't nervous one bit, but I can tell his confidence is already fading as we start to get closer to the justice building. The place where dreams and actual life's go to die. I want to comfort him and say it'll be alright, but he's no fool. He might be quiet, but he's certainly not naive. No matter what I say, it won't change his mind.

Me, Sara, Piers, and aunt Juliet all walk together in a quiet union with the rest of the group. I would say something to break the silence, but there are certain times when silence is all that _can_ be said in a moment. Even after that amazing time at the lake, all I can do right now is just walk with my family as we approach even closer and closer to the justice building.

When we arrive, I feel my heart stop. In front of us is the justice building, towering over everything like a mountain. In front of the justice building are thousands of kids waiting in their sections muttering silently. And then behind those rows of kids is the line where you get signed in. The peacekeepers wait there silently, weapons strapped and ready. They call each child up and quickly draw their blood before they rush into their section.

I already knew what was going to happen, but somehow the feeling of dread gets worse every year.

Aunt Juliet quickly stops us before we go in line, breathing calmly unlike the rest of us. She wears a long brown overcoat, and a black blouse, coupled with long pants and withered shoes. The nicest thing she can afford is the little hat she wears which is decorated a bit with flowers. Her hair is starting to grey between her brown locks. She looks so tired right now, coupled with the wrinkles on her face, and yet she's able to pipe up some sort of smile despite the situation.

"Listen, children, I won't be able to follow you when you head inside," she says, "so please take good care of each other and stay strong."

"We will mother," Sara says, hugging her tightly.

"Yeah, I promise mom," Piers says, hugging her too.

After Sara and Piers are done, aunt Juliet quickly pulls me into a hug and holds me tightly. I notice she smells like roses.

"Solder, once the reaping is done, you'll have to go home with your parents," she says, "the peacekeepers are checking each house to make sure every family is situated with each other, so we won't be able to see you right away until the inspection is over."

I feel a whine start to creep up out of my mouth at the mention of my parents, but I'm able to suppress it and nod.

"I know it's not ideal for you sweetie," she says, "but it's all we can do for the time being."

"I understand," I say, "I'll see you after the inspection then...?"

"Of course," she says hopefully.

She hugs me one last time before she starts to get situated into the adult's section. Meanwhile, me, Sara, and Piers quickly head into line with the other kids and quietly start chatting. It's mostly about our talk at the lake and the entire ordeal it took to get there, but even then we start to quiet down once Sara gets checked in.

"See you soon guys," Sara says before she's whisked away into the fourteen-year-old section.

Piers is the next to go and I give him a tight hug before he's taken away from me to.

"Everything will be fine," I say, "once all this is over we can go back to the lake."

Piers smiles a bit after I say that.

"I hope so," he says, hugging me tightly.

Once he's taken to the twelve-year-old section, I get my finger pricked and am quickly carted off into the fourteen-year-old section with all the boys. All of them are whispering to each other about certain things, something about a rigged game this year. I try not to dwell on their words to much and begin to make conversation with super twins Andrew and Hollen Wess. Their company is much appreciated and we begin to laugh over trivial things such as suits and masks.

"Attention everyone, this is your escort speaking."

I look up at the stage and begin to squint my eyes.

The escort has neon green hair slicked back into a long pony tail. It shines brightly in the square, actually lighting up some of the area like a Christmas tree. He wears a... interesting type of dark suit that is a clash between brown and dark green. He has somehow implanted gems into his cheeks, giving his face a thin and bony look.

"It's a pleasure to be acting as your escort for this year... I can't wait to see who will be representing this district in the games..."

Everyone is silent at his attempt of sarcasm. It's pretty clear he'd rather be anywhere else then district nine.

"Let's see who will be acting as the girl tribute for district nine this year shall we?" he says.

When no replies to his question, he just shrugs and rummages through the bowl. It's at this moment that I begin to pray with every fiber of my being that Sara is not selected. I couldn't bear to watch her ascend the stage to such a death show this year. I wait anxiously until he pulls one out, unfolds it, and then reads it off.

"Brianne Froyen..."

I sigh of relief escapes me. It isn't Sara. Which is perfect. She's thankfully safe for another year. But, who's this year's girl tribute? I think I faintly remember her from somewhere. I look out and find Brianne walking to the stage with a clear scowl on her face. She looks so disgusted and angered that even the escort looks a bit nervous. However, she presents no threat to the peacekeepers as they escort her up the steps and onto the stage. The second she does, I notice she starts to stare off into the distance.

The more I look at her, the more I wonder if I know her. I know a lot of people in the district. Andrew and Hollen. Miya. Sara and Piers. Ms. Alba. Ryder and his pals. But this girl is different. I feel as if she's somehow important, and yet I can't remember why. It's almost as if-

"Solder Rye."

I jump a bit when my name is called, a flood of shock and fear rushing through my body. Despite my attempts, I can't help it, it's almost impossible to even attempt to hide the fact I'm surprised.

My name... was called...

I breathe in deeply and manage to make my way out of the crowd. I don't know exactly how, especially since this should be a life defying moment for me. But as long as I look on the bright side of this, maybe I stand a chance. Although I can't find many bright sides, I have to stay positive in this situation. So I start to smile and walk over to the stage waving goodbye to everyone I ever knew. It's heartbreaking to see Piers and Sara's face as I make my way up the steps, but this is the best I can do for now. As long as I look into the bright side of things... maybe I stand a chance.

Planting my feet beside my district partner, I look her way and notice that she's staring right into my eyes. Maybe she wants to shake my hand?

I raise it out to her and smile.

"Nice to meet you," I say.

She stares at me dead in the eyes, a look of confusion and annoyance present deep within them.

"Wipe that smile off your face you creep," she says, and then she quickly looks away...

Welp, this is not off to a great start...

* * *

 _Brianne Froyen – 15 Years Old_

 _District 9 Female_

* * *

When the reaping starts, everyone begins to quiet down.

It's funny. Before the mayor comes out it's all sunshine and rainbows for these children. But the second he steps on the platform and grips the mic, that's when everyone realizes the situation they're in. It happens every year in the same way. Maybe it's because he's well respected in the community and capitol that makes them nervous. Except I know that isn't the case with him. It's when he reads the speech that everyone realizes it's time. That's when they pipe down and pay attention. It fills their senses and makes them nervous, paranoid, unhinged. And that fills them with total and complete fear.

None of them understand real fear. Or at least the type that I put up with every single day.

The mayor begins talking, the speech he's required to give playing out the same. I don't pay much attention since I've memorized the whole thing by now. It's filled with flowery writing just to drag out the hour until the "real" fun begins. As he does this, a chill enters the air as he does this, encasing the square in a sort of bubble of darkness I can't quite describe. Sure there is light, and maybe a bit of sun shining through the clouds, but no one is in the mood to celebrate such a natural thing. If anything, it makes the whole scene play out worse. The reaping, where two children go to die has such gorgeous weather taking place during it. What a joke.

Beside me are two girls who continue giggling about something insignificant to me. They both wear pink dresses and look the same. It must be twins. They both do have the same annoying laugh, so it would make sense. Despite the situation, they don't stop smiling at each other. They talk loudly. They snicker and snort. And whenever one of them makes a complete banger of a joke, they both begin to laugh loudly until they're back to talking about homework or whatever. The girls could be the end of me because I feel like screaming at them.

Yet, there's something oddly comforting knowing those twins have each other. Just like how me and my mom do.

"Attention everyone, this is your escort speaking."

I turn around a begin to gag. The escort this year is nothing like Reynolds from last year's selection, who was proper and well dressed. This year the escort has neon green hair slicked back into a long pony tail. He wears some type of dark green suit that appears to be a mix of mushed mud and crunchy vomit. He's implanted gems into his cheeks, giving him a sorrowful narrow look to his jawline. How anyone could find that type of fashion sense stylish at the capitol is beyond me.

"It's a pleasure to be acting as your escort for this year... I can't wait to see who will represent this district..."

The clear sarcasm and hesitance in his voice almost reminds me of myself. I start to cringe at that fact.

"Let's see who will be acting as the girl tribute for district nine this year shall we?" he says.

No one answers him, so he just shrugs and rummages through the bowl for any sort of slip he can find. I wait patiently until he pulls one out, unfolds it, and then reads it off.

"Brianne Froyen..."

...

...

...

...

Everything starts to slow down as I step out of my section.

It's colder. Way too cold now. It's like the chill air that was once present was sucked away and replaced with a bitter blizzard. That's how cold everything is. On the inside, though I'm hot. I'm boiling over with rage. I want to scream. I want to fight or escape from this hell that has dawned before me. But all I can do in the heat of the moment is scowl at the cameras. It's the most rebellious thing I've ever done in my whole life and I love it. It's the only flaw, the only imperfection that anyone has ever and will ever see. The only crack on this perfect smile of mine. No one will ever see this much of me ever again.

I make it to the stage, the scowl still deeply set into my face. I don't say anything into the mic when the escort asks, instead, I just look straight ahead. I have to start planning right now what I'm going to do. I have three options. One, try to run. Instant death if I do so it's an easy option out. Two, curl in a ball and cry until we get to the capitol. It seems understandable at the moment, but right now it's not what I need. What I need to do is follow option three. Plan everything out and win this thing. If I do, then I can come home alive. Alive and with my mother again. Hugging her tightly as we skip away into victors village. Imagine that life. Imagine a life immune from everything and everyone.

Just imagine...

I'm so deep in thought that I almost don't notice the boy tribute being called.

"Solder Rye."

Silence...

It takes a bit of time, but eventually, the boy in question comes out of his section. He wears normal clothes. Just a grey pair of trousers with a white shirt and brown vest. Nothing impressive. What is impressive though is his attitude. The way he walks to the stage. It's... almost unsettling if I'm being honest. He has a slight skip in his step, smiling as if the situation doesn't phase him in the slightest. He manages to wave goodbye to a few people in the crowd as he makes his way up to the stage.

When he takes his place beside me, he doesn't hesitate to raise up his hand.

"Nice to meet you," he says, still smiling when he extends his hand to shake mine.

I stare at him dead in the eyes as he does this.

"Wipe that smile off your face you creep," I state.

I look away before I gauge his reaction. He's only a distraction at the real prize. Don't focus on anyone else but yourself. That's how you've survived all these years after all. Don't focus on anyone except you...

* * *

 **Introducing Solder and Brianne for district 9, submitted by haydesx and Pierana. I enjoyed writing both of these tributes, so I hope you also enjoyed their introduction!** **This chapter was supposed to be posted last week, however exams are coming up for me, so I took some time to study for those and managed to knock some out of the way. I have a bit more free time now, so I should be able to get out district 10's reaping next week, if not maybe early Sunday.**


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